


mercy on my heart

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom!Oswald, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Developing Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Instability, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, S&M, Smut, Teasing, Top!Edward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He closed his eyes for a split second, trying to calm his racing heart. He was squeezing the wheel so aggressively his knuckles were snow white. His head was so blurry with all sorts of thought. Save Ed. Kill Sofia. Wonder if Jim already caught up to her. Save Ed. Surely Jim did, he’s a good cop. Save Ed. Save Ed. Save. Ed.- - - - - - -What if Oswald doesn't make it in time to the pier? Sounds like great material for some angst.





	1. i stand a hundred feet

**Author's Note:**

> had this idea in my head for a little while, thought i would actually turn it into something :") please do feel free to leave feedback!
> 
> the story/chapter names are inspired by the song Mercy (by Shawn Mendes)

Oswald had never liked driving a car. It made his ankle burn like someone was stabbing it, but he had to ignore the stinging pain and keep going. He had almost crashed the car when speeding through red lights already, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if a cop car would attempt pulling him over soon. He stared dead ahead, ignoring everything and everyone around him as he pressed the gas even harder. The poor car wasn’t made for city racing but he was in the biggest rush he had ever been. Ed’s life was on his hands. Again. This time, however, he wasn’t the one trying to blow the man’s brain out. He was trying to prevent it. He closed his eyes for a split second, trying to calm his racing heart. He was squeezing the wheel so aggressively his knuckles were snow white. His head was so blurry with all sorts of thought. Save Ed. Kill Sofia. Wonder if Jim already caught up to her. Save Ed. Surely Jim did, he’s a good cop. Save Ed. Save Ed. Save. Ed.

He did a sharp turn towards the river and almost ran over an old couple crossing the road. Too bad. He could see a car parked at the ever-so-familiar pier. As he got closer to his destination, he could also see three men on the dock. A flash of comforting green. His car screeched for mercy as he turned on the road, driving through the pavement and parked with a deafening crash straight into the other car. It had not been his definite intention, but he wasn’t a necessarily good driver. His body was starting to get into shock, but he shook his body, grabbed his gun from the seat as well as his cane and stormed out of the smoking car.

His arrival had clearly gained the attention of the two men holding the third one in place. Edward has standing at the edge of the pier, facing the river, but also turned around as his expected gunshot was nowhere in sight. Oswald saw the tiniest bit of relief on the other’s face as he raised his pistol, pointing it at the nearest guy.

“And this is where this little game of hers ENDS”, he screamed as he pulled the trigger. The man had no time to react before a bullet already sunk into his eye socket. The man screamed in pain, falling to the ground, shaking violently. Ed just stared at him, mouth gaping open slightly. So did the other kidnapper, before coming back to Earth, looking furious. He pointed his gun at Ed’s head, grabbing the tall man by his arm and dragging him to a position where it was impossible for Oswald to shoot him without hurting Ed. Fucking sly, he thought, body trembling from anger.

“Let go of him and I _might_ let you die fast unlike your buddy over there”, Oswald said, pointing at the man still twitching on the ground, slowly dying.

“I will finish my job!” shouted the man from behind Edward. “Even if it means we ALL die!”

Everything happened so fast Oswald barely had time to process it. Ed suddenly spun around and grabbed the man’s arm, clearly an attempt to break it. The man screamed and tried to back off, which resulted in him nearly walking off the pier. The whole situation turned into a shouting fit between Ed and the man, and just as Oswald recovered from the initial confusion, it ended in a loud gunshot. Oswald looked down at his trembling hand but didn’t see smoke coming from his own hand. He heard a splash and raised his gaze just in time to see Ed hit the pier cement. He was alone at the edge. The other man was already in the river.

About a million emotions flooded Oswald’s head as he burst into nervous, relieved laughter. He threw away his pistol and rushed over to the man laying on the ground. “Oh my God, Ed, you made me so worr- ied...” His face suddenly turned from angry red to terrified white. He had assumed Ed was just laying on the ground to catch his breath, but a red puddle had started to gather around the back of his head. Gasping, Oswald fell on his knees and roughly grabbed the front of his green suit. He pulled him slightly off the ground and stared as Edward’s head rolled to the side, completely inanimate.

“ED?” he shouted, grabbing the man’s jaw and turning his head. Ed’s brown eyes were lazily open, not blinking. “Ed, t-this isn’t fucking funny!” He felt his eyes burning already. “Wake up! Ed! ED!”

The following moments went on in a complete haze for Oswald. He felt someone firmly grab him by the shoulder and force his hands off Ed’s lifeless body. He didn’t know who had alerted the police, maybe the obvious sounds of gunfire, but for once he was thankful to see them. He had been seated at the back of a large police car, given a blanket and a cup of coffee to treat the shock with. Surprisingly, no one seemed to think he was the culprit in the scene.

“Oswald”, he heard someone call his name. He raised his head a little bit, not actually focusing his eyes on the man before him. It was Jim Gordon. Of course it was. “How are you feeling?” the man asked and stepped closer. He spoke softly, softer than usual. Oswald opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Just a small, tired, pathetic sob. He was well aware he probably looked insane as hell at that moment. Hair an absolute mess, dark streaks of tears and mascara all over his cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Jim seemed to understand, because he sat next to the broken man and put an arm around him. It was surprising to get this kind of affection from The Jim Gordon, but Oswald welcomed it and leaned into the touch, shuddering.

“They took Nygma to the hospital”, Jim spoke quietly, rubbing Oswald’s arm soothingly. “There is a pretty good chance he’ll make it. The shot wasn’t a calculated one.” Oswald nodded a bit, but it was unclear thanks to his trembling body.

“What happened to Sofia?” he finally got out with great struggle. He raised his head a bit and looked at Jim more firmly.

“Lee shot her right through the head”, Jim said. He didn’t sound one bit sorry. Oswald’s eyes widened a bit and he forgot about his sorrow for a moment.

“Lee? Lee Thompkins?”

“Yep. Saw it. Sofia was about to kill me, but Lee made it first”, Jim gulped and gave a weak smirk. “Were you interested in doing the job yourself?”

“Will I get arrested if I admit I want to rip her head off her shoulders?” Oswald said quietly and turned away.

“If we arrested everyone who wanted Sofia Falcone dead, half the city would be behind bars, Oswald”, Jim’s mouth twitched a bit. He stood up and squeezed the small man’s shoulder. “You should go home. Get some rest, you look like death.”

“No way, I’m going to Gotham Central”, Oswald said stubbornly and stood up too, letting the blanket fall off his shoulders. Obviously, Jim was right, but there was no way Oswald wouldn’t spend the following however-many nights at Ed’s bed. He grabbed his cane and was starting to make his way out to his car, when he felt Jim’s hand on his shoulder again.

“Two things”, he said firmly. “One”, he raised a finger, “you’re not allowed to go to Nygma’s room no matter how much you’d like, he’s in intensive care _and two_ ”, he continued in a single breath before Oswald could run away from him, “you crashed your vehicle. Are you gonna walk three blocks to get there?”

Oswald pinched his lips together, looking both angry and defeated. “The hospital is closer than my house, anyway...”

“I’ll drive you”, Jim sighed and began walking towards the car with Oswald. He seated the man on the backseat and seatbelted him like he was a five-year old. As he was closing the door, Bullock waltzed up to him.

“You arrestin’ him?”

“What? No, I’m taking him home”, Jim furrowed his brows a little and slammed the door shut right on Oswald’s face. “He’s a mess. He didn’t shoot Nygma.” Stupid Jim, Oswald thought. He could hear the conversation through the door.

“Speaking of which, got a call from the hospital”, Bullock’s words immediately made Oswald press his ear against the window. “Sofia Falcone has been transferred to the intensive care unit. She’s in a coma.”

“WHAT?” Oswald screeched, forcing the door open despite Jim standing in front of it. “Sofia is in the same unit as ED? Who the fuck thought they should even try to wake her up?! She’s a criminal, she tried to kill me and Ed and Jim and-“

“Ed is also a criminal who tried to kill you and me”, Jim interrupted rubbing his temples. “Let’s just get you home.”

The drive to Oswald’s was quiet. The sun was starting to set, the clouds had dispersed, and the evening would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the fact that Oswald was in pain from worry. He could not get the image of Ed’s lifeless body in his arms away from his head. How his head had rolled over, his face still bloody from the earlier torture, the puddle underneath his head, messing up the light grey concrete. Ed had gone through so much to keep him safe. To make sure Oswald was safe. It was something completely unfathomable to him. It made his heart sink. He would have nightmares for weeks, just like he had had when his mother had been shot in a similar fashion right before his eyes. Ed had been there to comfort him with the nightmares. Now he needed the comfort, but the bright-smiled gentleman was nowhere near.

“We’re here.” Jim’s voice interrupted his gloomy thoughts and Oswald jumped a bit. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. “Hey.”

“What?” he snapped at Jim, not looking at the man.

“Take care of yourself.”

“Who else do I have doing that for me?” He got up and took his cane, slammed the door shut and was making his way to the door. He heard Jim rolling his window down and sighed dramatically.

“I promise to call when you can go see Nygma”, Jim called out for him before restarting the car and leaving the yard. Oswald got inside and quickly grabbed him a glass of the strongest wine he could find. He slumped onto the couch and closed his eyes, glass in hand. Great. Welcome, night of terrors.


	2. show me an open door

The following week went by agonizingly slow. Oswald spent most of his time sulking in his bedroom or drinking heavily in his private lounge area. Every time his phone rang, he felt his heartbeat go crazy and he rushed to pick it up, only to find out the caller to be anyone but Jim. He had tried calling the hospital once, but it had been utterly useless. Apparently, Ed’s state was fairly stable, but they would only be allowed to let visitors in once he was transferred out of the intensive care unit. Oswald was at crossroads; on one hand he could command them to move Ed and let him see the man, but at the same time Ed’s chances of survival were the highest in the unit he was in. Therefore, he proceeded to not force things to go his way for a change.

It was yet another miserable morning like all the others had been. He had woken up at around nine and gone straight for his alcohol cabinet, picked a bottle at random and started a fun game he liked to call destroying his liver. He was staring at the television aimlessly, not following whatever soup opera happened to be playing, glass of booze in one hand and a cigarette in other, when he felt his phone vibrating against his thigh. He almost dropped his glass in his hurry to pick up. He shivered when he read the name from the tiny screen; _JIM_.

“Yes?” he said eagerly as soon as he got the phone on his ear.

“Before you get too excited, he hasn’t woken up”, Jim’s voice was quiet, almost like he was trying to keep himself from making a scene. “But I got you a permit to see him.” This time Oswald dropped his glass for real. It made a mess on the white fur beneath his feet, but he could not have cared less.

“On my way!” he ended the call and stuck the phone in his pocket. It took him less than a minute to sit down at the driver’s seat of his car and pull out of the yard. He hadn’t even grabbed a jacket, but he was just too ecstatic to be logical. Jim had returned his car two days ago, good as new, and Oswald had had to make a promise to not drive above the speed limit in order to have it as a possession again. Easy promise to make, a hard one to keep, especially now. He did force himself to slow down to a moderate speed as he started reaching the heart of the city. This was not the time he wanted to be stopped for a speeding ticket.

It took aggravatingly long to find a parking spot from the hospital parking lot. Just as he was about to stop, another car appeared out of nowhere, stealing his spot. Fuming, he rolled the window down and shouted a lovely “fuck you!” as we drove past the smug woman. After a couple wild turns around the lot, he finally he pulled to an empty space and got out of the car, scraping his car door on the one right next to it. He cursed a little but took his walking stick and speed-walked to the main entrance. Coincidentally, Jim was already standing there, waiting for him.

“I thought you have a driver”, Jim said and gave him a snarky smile. Oswald decided not to comment and changed the subject.

“Where is Ed?”

“Follow me.” He did without hesitation. Oswald had never liked hospitals. They were terrifyingly clean, white and quiet. Smelled of hand sanitizer and grandmas. Every time you went to a hospital, there was something wrong with you or someone you cared for. Just not a good place to be. Jim walked them up to the elevator and pushed the button to the third floor.

“Was he transferred?” Oswald asked, biting his thumbnail nervously.

“No, but he seemed stable enough to be left alone for a moment”, Jim said as the elevator made a small _ding_ sound. They exited and found themselves in a dead quiet hallway. A couple of people were sitting in the wooden chairs near the walls and the tiny humming sound was the only one audible. Oswald followed his guide to the only person standing in the hallway, a tall balding man with a doctor’s jacket.

“My name’s James Gordon, this is Oswald Cobblepot. We’re here to see Edward Nygma, the man shot in the head a week ago.”

“Right, right”, the doctor gave a polite nod to Oswald, but focused his words on Jim. “Mr. Nygma’s heartbeat has been stabilized and we have been able to get a brain scan which shows no significant issues. Are you family?” James looked at Oswald before responding by showing his badge.

“I’m from the GCPD, he’s a... close friend.” Oswald felt his cheeks burning up a little bit at that, but it seemed to work with the doctor who nodded again and gestured towards the nearby door.

“Room 307, Mr. Gordon. Mr. Cobblepot.” That was enough information for Oswald who immediately abandoned Jim and limped to the instructed door. Without bothering to knock he opened the door and stepped into the room.

This room was more dimly lit than the hallway, it felt more pleasing to the eyes. The curtains had been closed and the room was empty except for the man laying on the bed. Oswald felt a huge sting on his heart when he walked towards the bed. It was surreal to see Ed, The Edward Nygma, looking so inanimate and quiet. So still. His eyes were closed and his chest barely moving up and down. The only sound in the room was the stable beeping of the heart monitor. All kinds of tubes and needles were connected to Ed’s body and to the machinery keeping him alive.

Oswald choked up a sob and quickly swiped his eyes dry when he heard footsteps behind him. “Jim, I appreciate your concern, but I would like to be alone”, he said and turned around. He was startled to see a familiar woman standing in front of him.

“Lee Thompkins”, he muttered. “Huh.”

“Hello, Oswald”, Lee greeted him with a smile. She looked much more put together than he did. Hair on a ponytail, makeup, holding a small bouquet of flowers. They were white roses. Oswald quickly pretended to get very interested at the closest wall as Lee walked past him and placed the flowers on the bedside table.

“I’m surprised to see you here”, Oswald said, words sounding more like poisonous daggers, and turned around with a fake smile.

“I heard what happened to Ed. Of course I had to pay him a visit as soon as possible”, she said and faced Oswald.

“I guess I wasn’t the only one Jim called.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long”, Lee exhaled deeply and looked at Ed again. “Ed has helped me a lot recently. In his own way. I hope he knows how much I appreciate it.” Oswald bit his cheek in order to not let out his deepest, darkest thoughts.

“I heard you’re to thank for Sofia’s current condition”, he changed the subject subtly, remaining eye contact. Lee gave him a small smirk.

“That bitch can stay in the coma for the rest of her life for all I care.”

“I can’t do anything but agree”, Oswald’s smile was more genuine this time around. It seemed like him and Thompkins had at least two things in common; the worry for The Riddler and the immense hatred for Sofia Falcone.

“Well, I gotta get back to the Narrows”, Lee sighed with an apologetic smile. “Things don’t run themselves in there.” She walked past Oswald and was about to exit the room when Oswald turned around and stopped her.

“Thank you for caring about him”, he said and swallowed. Lee looked surprised for a second, but her expression softened.

“Thank you for caring about him, too”, she said, gave one last smile and left the room, closing the door after her.

Oswald took a seat at the chair next to Edward’s bed and pinched his eyes closed, trying to figure out what to do about the situation. He wanted to just rip Ed from the stupid tubes and machines and take him home. He could have Fries freeze him again. Keep him there until he had been healed. But after being frozen himself for a little bit, knowing how it felt, he knew he would never have the heart to do such a thing to Ed again. His mind began wondering to all the things they had been through. Ed had saved him from the woods after being shot. Treated him. Then Oswald had gone to Arkham. Came back _sane_. And gone _insane_ again. Ed had gone to Arkham, been saved by him. They had made a real nice dream-team with him as mayor and Ed as his right-hand man. And then the real downfall had begun.

~~~

For the next month, he visited Edward every single day. It became a part of his routine. Every day from six to nine or so. He’d just sit next to him, hold his hand, tell him about his day. It was useless, he didn’t believe Ed would hear him. But it was the same type of thing he had done when Ed was in ice. Every damn day he came to Ed’s lifeless body with worries, with rumours, with laughs. He hadn’t seen Lee since the first day. Either they had different schedules, or she didn’t have the time for the Riddler. Oswald had secretly thrown her flowers out the window the moment he got the chance and brought his own ones. He had brought him pretty much every single type of violet flower he could find from the local flower shop and had even made a custom request for green roses.

With said roses he now approached the room, fumbling with the flower packaging a little bit. He entered the room and went to put the roses into the vase on the table next to Ed’s glasses. He brushed off his jacket and placed it on the chair’s backrest. The room was getting more and more homely by every passing day. He had already infiltrated the room with the scent of his perfume, there were a few empty glasses and bottles around the space – he had insisted they shouldn’t clean Ed’s room – and he had brought in some newspapers and books to keep himself amused as he eagerly awaited for Ed to wake up.

“It’s getting warm”, he said quietly and smiled at Ed. “Usually summers in Gotham are treacherous, cold, wet... A nice change. Hopefully it’s not too sweaty for you.” He picked up the daily newspaper from the table and opened it, disappearing behind it. Gotham Daily was mainly filled with the Arkham prison break nowadays. He had politely declined on joining Jerome Valeska and his goons on some stupid havoc they were planning. For some reason Mr. Freeze and Firefly seemed completely on board, and frankly, Oswald didn’t give a damn. He turned the page and snorted sarcastically.

“Can you believe that fucking clown is still the mayor? I should run the place again. Maybe once you get up and get that pretty brain of yours in check, Eddie.” He shook his head, a melancholic smile making an appearance on his face for a moment. His dreams were interrupted with a huge growl from his stomach. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and it was already almost seven in the evening. He threw the newspaper on the bed and stretched his back as he got up from the uncomfortable chair. One thing he should definitely carry over soon was an armchair. He checked his pocket for his wallet and limped out of the room.

He was surprised to see a familiar man sitting at the third floor cafeteria. Jim Gordon was sipping on a coffee near a window, staring out aimlessly. He was alone and didn’t look like he was waiting for someone, so Oswald invited himself to his company. After quickly grabbing a gross-looking sandwich and a black coffee from the kiosk, he pranced over to him. Jim flinched a bit out of surprise when Oswald slumped on the chair opposite of him but didn’t look too bothered.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here, Jim”, Oswald took a slurp of the coffee and cringed. It tasted fucking horrible, but it was better than an empty stomach.

“I was checking on Sofia.” Jim looked at the sandwich in disgust as Oswald bit into it.

“Oh?” he said, mouth full, raising his eyebrows.

“Her stage hasn’t developed in any direction. Lee did a number on her.”

“Good. The longer that fucking witch is out of the picture, the better”, Oswald scoffed after forcing the piece of bread down his throat. “Thank god Ed doesn’t need food, he would have already jumped out the window if he had to gulp down this shit.”

“Mm-hmm, hospital food. Yum”, Jim smiled dryly and stirred the spoon in his mug. “Beats prison food, though.” They shared a knowing chuckle and chatted about whatever as Oswald finished his sandwich. They got up and began walking towards the dishrack to leave their cups when a nurse suddenly rushed into the cafeteria.

“Has anyone seen Dr. Miller?” she exclaimed loudly, gaining the attention of nearly everyone in the cafeteria. Jim placed his cup on the rack and focused on the woman.

“Do you need help finding him, Miss?” he asked, walking up to her. Oswald followed not far behind, although he was much less into the idea of headlessly running around a hospital looking for a doctor. Didn’t they have like walkie-talkie-thingies to locate one another? “What’s going on?” Jim continued, quickly showing off his badge to make sure she deemed him as trustworthy.

“The patient in room 307 has woken up, si-“

“WHAT?” Oswald screamed so loud everyone in the room jumped. The nurse looked scared, but Jim seemed to connect the two dots in his head and looked at Oswald who was trembling vicariously.

“Ed”, was all it took for Jim to say before Oswald already flew across the room and into the hallway, limping more aggressively since he had forgotten his cane at the table. Jim ran after him, quickly grabbing the walking stick and apologizing to the terrified nurse.


	3. then you go and slam it on me

They arrived at room 307’s door at the same time as the balding doctor. Oswald knew him already – apparently Dr. Miller had been chosen as Edward’s personal doctor. Good to see the man wasn’t a complete screwup. They all tried to get through the door at the same time, which ended up in Miller roaming through both of them and making his way to the patient at hand before Oswald. Two male nurses blocked their path into the room, saying something about it being not proper for them to enter right now, but Oswald was blinded by the need to see Ed alive and awake. He was already fuming over the fact that he had spent every free moment of the last month sulking right by Ed and then the bastard wakes up the second he leaves. He forced his way through the nurses and almost fell on his face when he arrived at the bedside.

And there he was, with the most confused expression Oswald had ever seen on his face, surrounded by hospital workers. Ed Nygma. Oswald felt his eyes burning up. He couldn’t contain the happiness he was feeling. The biggest smile had made its way on his face, but he was also about to cry. Jim, with the power of his police badge, had also made his way into the room, and settled down right next to Oswald. Oswald felt Jim’s hand on his shoulder and knew that if he tried to jump on the bed and squeeze the living hell out of Ed, Jim would stop it. Oswald tried his best to not shout at the terrific timing of his wake. They seemed to be running some kind of tests on Ed, checking his heartrate and blood pressure, adding some stuff into the feeding bag, all kinds of other things Oswald didn’t give a shit about.

“Can you please tell me your name, sir?” Dr. Miller asked Ed and reached to the bedside table for his glasses.

“Edward Nygma”, Ed said with a hoarse voice as a nurse offered him a glass of water. He drank it hungrily in one massive gulp, having droplets of water drip down his chin.

“Good”, the doctor said and took the glass, replacing it with Ed’s glasses. “Where are you right now?”

“I live in Gotham. Considering it would seem like I’m in a hospital, my first guess is the Gotham Central.” Of course Ed would answer such simple questions with a long, carefully crafted sentence. Ed rubbed his eyes a bit before putting on his glasses, having a proper look around the room now that he could actually see around him.

“Very good, Mr. Nygma. Now, would you tell me-“

“Jim!” Ed exclaimed so suddenly it surprised everyone in the room. Most surprised turned out to be the man himself. Jim looked at him like Ed had slapped him right across the face and slowly raised his hand, waving a bit.

“Hey, Ed.”

“Oh my God? I didn’t think you’d come see me”, Ed talked fast, obnoxiously, like he hadn’t just woken up from a fucking month-long coma. Jim looked like he wanted to run away from the situation and was shifting his stare from Ed to Oswald. A clear cry for help in Oswald’s eyes. “I mean, Jim Gordon of all people, worried about-“ Oswald did the most logical thing in his head, which was to step forward and attack Edward with an excruciating hug. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Ed’s shoulder, trembling for multiple reasons.

“I missed you so, so much”, he muttered so quietly only Ed could hear it, sneaking a tiny kiss on his collarbone as he spoke. The room was quiet, but it didn’t bother Oswald. All he wanted to do right now was to just hold the brunette in his arms for a really long time. Maybe cry a little bit. He heard the doctor whisper something to one of the nurses who all left the room in unison.

“I- I’m honoured”, he finally heard Ed speak and let go a bit so he could see his face. The moment their eyes met Oswald knew something was wrong. He had expected to see a cheeky grin on the man’s face, but Edward just looked utterly confused, maybe even a little scared or embarrassed. “I’m more than honoured to have you so... worried, for me. But, uh...” Ed bit his lip before looking Oswald into his teary eyes. “Am I supposed to know you, sir?”

If the room had been silent before, it was nothing compared to the complete tranquillity it was now experiencing. Oswald stared at him in shock. Jim’s mouth had gaped slightly open and he was glaring at Edward in disbelief. Even the doctor looked taken aback by the statement. After a long silence and the feeling of everyone’s eyes at his back, Oswald let go on Edward and got off the bed. He stood there for a moment, all thoughts completely gone from his head, but they crashed back with a bang and the only logical thing he could think of doing was running out of the room. He snatched the cane from Jim’s hand and slammed the door shut so loudly it shook the windows.

“Oh dear”, Ed muttered, glancing through the blinds of his room, trying to catch a sight of Oswald as he stormed off. “Who was that, Jim?”

“I- uhh”, Jim struggled to come up with words and looked at the doctor who looked just as helpless. “It was a friend. Of yours.”

Edward furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head before giving a small chuckle. “We both know I’m not good at the friend thing, Jim.” His little laugh died down very fast and turned into painful silence. “If he’s a friend, why do I have no memory of ever meeting him?”

“Really? You don’t remember Oswald Cobblepot? He’s kinda hard to forget.”

Ed shook his head, frowning. He looked incredibly lost and turned to look at his doctor. “What happened to me? Why am I here?”

“You have been in coma for the past five weeks, Mr. Nygma. You got a bullet in the head”, Dr. Miller said calmly, but his nice tone didn’t stop Edward’s heartrate from rising a considerable amount. Jim swallowed and sat down in the chair Oswald had abandoned.

“Can I... Can I be alone with Jim for a minute?” Ed asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. A common gesture he always did when lost or nervous. The doctor nodded after looking at Jim for confirmation – he had hesitated for a second but didn’t see Edward as a threat – and then left the room without saying another word. They were quiet for a little while, the heart monitor beeping in the background, before Ed huffed loudly and laid down on the bed. He shuffled with the pillows for a second and propped himself to a comfy half-sitting position, focusing on Jim.

“I actually wanted to ask you something.” Another awkward chuckle escaped his mouth, and Jim leaned forward to show he was listening. A lot of thoughts were going through his head, as he was sure were in Ed’s as well. “If this is not the case, please don’t tell her I asked this...”

“What’s on your mind?” Jim asked to get past the chit-chat. Edward’s facial expression was very confusing.

“Did... Did Ms. Kringle visit me at all?” Jim stared at him stupidly for a second, sure he’d misheard the man. “I mean. Like, at all? Did she ever visit? Did she... ask about me? Or stuff?” Ed’s sentences were short, fast, nearly incomprehensible.

“What?” was all Jim was able to get out of his mouth.

“I- I was just thinking! You know! She’s the type of person to worry a whole lot. Just thought maybe she worried about me too.” Ed was blabbering. This was so unlike him. Well... Now that Jim thought about it a little bit, it wasn’t completely unlike the Ed he had first met. Edward Nygma, the forensic scientist, had been a rambler. Awkward. Giggly.

“I can take a no, you know, Jim.”

“Um. Can _I_ ask _you_ something, Ed?” Jim proposed with a forced smile.

“That’s a no then”, Ed sighed, looking slightly disappointed. “But yes, go ahead. Is it a riddle?”

“No. What year is it?”

“Huh?” Edward looked taken aback and laughed. When he wasn’t getting the warmth back, he sobered up. “It’s 2009, duh.” Jim coughed to hide his rising panic. 2009 was the year he had started working for the GCPD. The year he had met Ed.

“Ed, I honestly don’t know how to tell you this without freaking you out, so I’m just gonna say it”, Jim sighed and leaned even further forward on his chair. “It’s 2014.” He had been right about one thing; Ed definitely freaked out. He bolted up from his relaxed position so aggressively he ripped one of the tubes off him on accident.

“But the doctor said I had only been in a coma for five weeks? Not five _years_!” Ed’s eyes were so wide it made him look sort of crazy.

“Um. Just... Let me get Miller, okay?” With that, he left Ed hyperventilating in his room. He didn’t have to walk far to find the doctor, who was waiting right on the other side of the door. Jim shut it and turned to the doctor. “There’s a problem.”

“I can tell. Clearly some form of memory loss happening, although it’s not uncommon in coma patients.”

“You don’t get it”, Jim growled, leaning closer. “He just asked about an ex-co-worker who he _murdered_ over four years ago. He thinks she is alive. He thinks the year is 2009.” The doctor was looking at him like he was mad and without saying anything further, entered room 307 and shut the door right on Jim’s face.

With no rights to enter the room anymore, Jim’s mind turned to Oswald. He should probably go look for the man, comfort him if that was even possible. Jim cursed his good heart while walking around the third floor, checking every bathroom he walked past for any sign of the raven-haired man. He was just about to give up on his aimless guest to find the Penguin when he opened one more bathroom door and found what he was looking for.

Oswald was hunched over the sink, face invisible from Jim’s standpoint. He was shaking a little, especially around the shoulders, and Jim didn’t have to hear a weak sniffle to know he was crying. Without a word he entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He walked up to the shorter man and cautiously placed a hand on his back. Oswald flinched but didn’t push him away. Now that he was closer to the mirrors, Jim could see his face through the reflection. It felt very reminiscent of the day Ed had been shot. Eyeshadow and mascara smeared around his red and puffed up eyes, trails of tears on his cheeks, red nose and snotty.

“We have a problem”, Jim said lowly as he rubbed Oswald’s back. Oswald howled the most pathetic-sounding, humourless cackle in existence and turned his neck to look at his reflection.

“You call that a problem, Jim?” he said with a satire smile.

“He didn’t just forget who you are, Oswald”, Jim forced Oswald to spin around and face him. He offered the man a package of tissues he always kept in his pocket for emergencies and Oswald blew his nose loudly.

“How the HELL does he not remember me? I MADE HIM! I’m his best friend, his _only_ friend, even! We’ve been through so much together and then he just remembers you”, he snapped as soon as he was done. His head hurt from all this, he wanted answers so bad.

“I don’t know, Penguin, and if I did, I promise I’d tell you”, Jim held his hand up as a peace offering. “He has some kind of a time paradox.”

“Elaborate”, Oswald commanded, turning around again and started cleaning up his face. Thankfully – or maybe in the crying’s sake unfortunately – his makeup wasn’t waterproof, so a good rinse should do it.

“He literally thinks the year is 2009. He doesn’t remember killing Ms. Kringle and most probably doesn’t remember any other killings of his either. Not saying that’s necessarily a negative thing, but those things were a huge part of his life.” Jim sighed deeply and massaged the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache from all this.

“So, wait”, Oswald tapped his face dry with the rest of the tissues and spun around. “He doesn’t know he’s The Riddler?”

“That’s my assumption.”

“Fuck”, Oswald cursed and slammed his hand on his face. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to awaken the Riddler inside him the last time? And he had all of his memories back then!”

“What are you talking about?” Jim said, suddenly very interested in where the conversation was going. Oswald realized he had spoken too much but also knew Jim would never let it go so it would be easier to just come clean.

“When Ed was melted from the ice, his brain was a little jolted. He couldn’t really grasp his whole Riddler persona anymore... In conclusion, he was stupid as fuck”, Oswald groaned. “When I went to Arkham, I got in trouble with Valeska. I needed to escape. And like the saving grace, Ed came to meet me in Arkham. Actually, it wasn’t Ed who was controlling him, it was the Riddler. He left me a note and helped me escape, long story short. Ed was going to roll himself into Arkham, you know?”

“Really?” Jim didn’t even bother asking about the rest of the thing he had heard.

“Yeah. But the Riddler got control of him after I said his name out loud. Don’t ask, it’s like a fucking fetish for him, hearing me say it.” He shuddered. “So now I can’t even tell him how much FUN we had before he got shot because he doesn’t fucking remember a thing!”

“You know, maybe it’s for the best”, Jim said, barely audible.

“What?”

“Ed’s life took a turn for the worst when you entered it. Maybe we can finally heal him”, Jim crossed his arms. Oswald looked offended to say the least.

“ExCUSE me. Might I remind you that Ed literally found me while he was _burying Ms. Kringle_? Meaning I didn’t influence him in any way.”

“That may be the case, but he could have stopped there if he never met you.”

Oswald looked hurt but was also fuming with anger and frustration. “You know what, Jim?” he said, limping right up to Jim’s face. He was so near his crooked nose as nearly touching Jim’s. “Since you said that, I now have all the motivation I need to put my next plan into action. I _will_ make Ed remember me, and all the beautifully gruesome things he has done in the past four years.” He gave a look that could kill before pushing the dirty tissues right on Jim’s hands and marching out of the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't actually have any idea when the gotham tv series takes place since they have mega-advanced tech in the labs etc yet they still use flip-phones so uhh,,,, i made it up lol  
> i went down a rabbithole of behind the scenes video clips of gotham and god i love robin so much,,,,,,,,,,,,,, baby boy. baby.


	4. i'm saying baby

Oswald stared blankly out of the window, lazily twirling the liquid around in his glass. Droplets of water and fog blurred the window – it had been raining all throughout the night. Guess the warm summer was just a one-day thing. It had been three days since Ed had woken up and Oswald hadn’t visited him since. He wanted to be mad at the man even though he knew there was nothing Ed could do about the situation. Although he had not seen Ed, Oswald constantly caught himself thinking about him. What was Ed doing right now? Who was he talking to? Was he in pain? Wonder what he had for lunch today...? It was driving him insane.

He gave one last moody look at the window before turning around and slamming the glass on the nearby table so hard it cracked at the top. He had a plan to make Ed remember his alter ego, but the real struggle was to figure out when and how to put that plan into action. Could he really just sit at his bedside and talk for ten hours straight all the way from their first meeting to the present? Edward would lose his mind if he heard he had murdered a bunch of people. Either that or he had called the cops on Oswald and had him sent to Arkham. Neither of the outcomes seemed good. He couldn’t just tell Ed everything, he had to make Ed remember it himself.

The first part of his plan was found in the kitchen. He grabbed the heated travel kettle from the stove and peeked in. Yep, everything was perfect. He secured the kettle in an airtight bag and grabbed a couple utensils before leaving the kitchen. Still in his thoughts he grabbed his umbrella from the hall and wandered out of the house. He knew he had to face Ed at some point. There was no way to postpone it. He climbed into his car and backed into the road without much thought. It was surprising how accustomed he had gotten to driving by himself despite his foot. It came naturally at this point. He tuned the radio to a random channel and drowned into the background noise. He only started to give a damn of what he was hearing when he heard a familiar name. He slowed down to traffic lights and turned the volume up.

“ _...ome Valeska is currently waiting for the arrival of Captain James Gordon and billionaire Bruce Wayne at the...”_ He shut the radio. He didn’t give two shits about Jerome Valeska and whatever he was doing. The guy had desperately trying to gain his support on the stupid project of his and he had refused multiple times. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Valeska. The guy creeped the hell out of him with that ripped mouth and stapled face. He was wondering what Jim had to do with it, though. He guessed it was a hostage situation and closed the case in his head.

The hospital was busier than it had been the previous days. He gave up on a parking space and just left his car in front of the main entrance. He’d absolutely get a parking ticket, but he just shut the door after grabbing his little present and limped in. The elevator was thankfully empty, and he arrived at the third floor hallway in record time. He hesitated for a long time behind Ed’s door. Why was he so goddamn nervous? He knew the answer but refused to admit his weakness. He peeked into Ed’s room through the half-closed blinds. The man was sitting on his bed, completely lost in a pile of newspapers. He pinched his eyes closed and gave the door a knock.

Inside the room, Edward raised his head as he heard a sharp knock on his door. “Come in”, he told and disappeared behind the newspaper again. He was so done with all the tests already. What the hell were they even testing? “Doctor Miller, could you get me the newspapers from two previous weeks as well? Thank you”, he asked without even glancing at the man.

“I’m... not Miller”, Oswald said awkwardly as he stepped in and shut the door. Ed jumped a little bit and immediately lowered the newspaper. Oswald stared at him back, or more-so the absolute mess that had taken control of Ed’s bed and everything around it. All over the floor there were newspapers, loose pages flying around, a radio on the floor and three separate notebooks on his bed. His hair was a complete mess of loose strands flying all around him, his glasses were slightly crooked, and he looked like he hadn’t slept since waking up from the coma.

“What the hell are you doing?” Oswald spurted out as he placed the bag on the table. He grabbed one of the newspapers from the ground and turned it around. It was from the week before.

“Trying to get caught up”, Edward said shortly and slammed the newspaper he was holding onto the ground with a splat. “How much stuff did I miss during my _nap_? I swear to god; I don’t understand a word I’m reading! It’s like trying to read Latin. And I took Latin in university! I _can speak Latin_!”

“Okay, calm down”, Oswald commanded, raising a hand as he sat on the bedside.

“How can I?” Ed looked desperately at the raven-haired man. “No one’s telling me a thing! The news is full of some guy called Jeremy Valeska and-“

“Jerome”, Oswald interrupted. “You shouldn’t worry about Valeska. He’s the least of your worries right now.”

“Oh yeah? Have you not seen the news?” Ed asked shakily and reached for the TV remote on the bedside table. He pointed it at the TV stuck on the wall opposite to him and tuned on the right channel. Oswald furrowed his brows as soon as he saw a very familiar ginger man on the screen and stole the remote from Ed, stubbornly shutting the television. Ed looked offended.

“Like I said”, Oswald insisted, throwing the remote at Ed’s feet and grabbing the man’s shoulder. “Do not worry about Jerome Valeska. Worry about yourself, Ed.” They stared at each other for a moment before Ed groaned loudly and kicked the rest of the newspapers off his bed, slumping onto his bed like a starfish.

“I’m so confused! I’m so dumb!”

“I’ve seen you be dumb, and I assure you this is not it”, Oswald said, forcing a smile on his face. Ed looked at him, features softening and anger turning into sadness.

“Jim said we’re friends. How can I forget my friend, Mr. Cobblepot?” he sighed and pushed his glasses to his forehead, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Please, just call me Oswald.”

“Sorry.”

The room fell silent for a bit, Ed breathing deeply, trying to calm his nerves. Oswald didn’t know if he felt worse for Ed or for himself. “Are you hungry?” Oswald asked suddenly, trying to change the topic. “I know the hospital food is closer to prison than an actual meal.”

“I could eat”, Ed answered. It seemed like Oswald had gained his attention. He stood up and walked to the table where he had placed the bag. He opened it and checked on the food in the pot. It was still pleasantly warm, so he grabbed two spoons and brought it to Ed who had sat back up, looking rather curious. Oswald sat back on the bed and offered the pot to him. Ed didn’t even bother asking about the contents of the meal before sinking his spoon into the pot and taking a spoonful into his mouth. Oswald had anticipated a reaction and he got the exact one he was looking for; Edward’s eyes lit up and as he swallowed, a very pleasant smile had appeared on his face.

“God, this is delicious! Did you make this?” he asked, eagerly eating more.

“It’s goulash. My mother’s recipe. I knew you’d like it”, Oswald smiled and also stole a mouthful from the pot. Ed looked like he was in heaven and that was all he needed at that moment.

“Did you just guess my exact preference in food, or have I eaten this before?” Ed gave a small smirk.

“The latter”, he admitted, slightly cautious. Ed’s smile faded a bit, but he kept eating until the entire pot was empty. And the recipe was enough to feed to people to the brim. Ed sighed, looking incredibly pleased as Oswald took the pot from him and placed it back on the table.

“Man, I gotta thank your mom as soon as I get out of here”, he licked his lips clean and laid back on the bed. Oswald stiffened up immediately and gulped.

“My mother is dead”, he said quickly, avoiding Edward’s eyes by fumbling with the phone in his pocket. Ed’s eyes widened. He raised his upper body again and covered his mouth slightly.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s nothing. You don’t remember”, Oswald gave a painful smile, feeling a sting on his chest. An uncomfortable silence fell between the two of them. Edward grabbed one of the notebooks and a pen and hid his face by worsening his posture. Oswald genuinely didn’t know what to say so he just stared at Ed. He knew Edward, at least the Edward Nygma he had first met, who had nursed him back to health, didn’t have a concept of personal space so he probably didn’t mind the green eyes burning into his side profile.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Ed finally broke the silence after what felt like a year.

“Of course”, Oswald was quick to answer, looking into the chocolate brown eyes that were now staring back at him.

“I... I know Ms. Kringle didn’t bring me those flowers. She doesn’t even know I like green, nor would she ever modify plants like that.” Ed was rambling again. Oswald didn’t mind, though. He looked at the green roses that had started to decompose on the vase. “I was thinking... Did you bring the flowers?”

Oswald felt his mouth dry a little. “Yes”, was all he was able to get out as he averted his eyes back to Ed’s face. He was surprised to see that Ed looked so flattered.

“No one has ever brought me flowers before”, he said and laughed that nervous, adorable laugh Oswald loved so much. “Thank you so much.” Oswald felt like he was heart was about to explode. He couldn’t help himself and pulled Ed into a strong embrace. He buried his face in Ed’s neck and squeezed the taller man against himself. Ed’s body stiffened only for a second before Oswald felt strong arms gently hugging him back.

“Oswald?”

“Mmm?” Oswald mumbled, closing his eyes. He didn’t ever want to let go.

“What was our relationship like?” Ed’s voice was merely a breath on his ear. It was sensual and warm, and made him shiver. He opened his eyes but didn’t loosen the hug yet. His heart was racing, but his mind was racing even faster. Ed’s hair tickled his cheek as the man shifted a little bit.

“We-“, Oswald started but had to take a breather mid-sentence. “Ed.” He finally diverged, only enough to look Nygma in the eyes. Those stupidly beautiful puppy eyes. Ed was looking at him with the most complicated of expressions. Oswald licked his lips and swallowed. They were so, so close.

“We were lovers.” The words finally escaped his mouth, barely audible. He knew Ed had heard them, though. Ed stared at him completely still, eyes very slowly averting towards Oswald’s lips. Oswald felt his face flush. God, it was way too warm in here.

“Why didn’t Jim tell that right away?” Ed said quietly, thoughtfully. Oswald could almost hear the cogs turning inside his head.

“It wasn’t a public relationship”, he breathed out, nervously fumbling with the hair on Ed’s neck. “We were, um, very private.”

“I’m so sorry that I can’t remember”, Ed whispered. There was no reason for them to be so quiet, no one else was in the room or anywhere near it, but there seemed to be a silent, mutual agreement to keep their voices down. “I- I really don’t remember anything... Not how we met, how we started a relationship, nothing.”

Oswald couldn’t help but give him a small smile. He pat Ed’s cheek softly. If there was one thing Edward would never remember, it would be that; their ‘relationship’. There never had been any relationship. Just Oswald’s bitter, pathetic crush and everything that followed from it. He wondered if Ed would ever remember dating Ms. Kringle. Dating Isabella. Dating... Lee.

“It’ll be fine, Ed”, he said. Ed’s hands had found their way down to his waist. A very comfortable position. After a tiny bit of hesitation, he cautiously pressed a small kiss on the brunette’s cheek. “I will help you remember. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, baby.”


	5. take it easy on my heart

It came as a surprise to Oswald that Ed was actually more interested in learning things about Oswald’s life than he was about his own past. He found himself talking to Ed for hours upon hours, stories from his childhood and teenage years. How he had met Fish Mooney and begun working for him. Oswald had tried his best not to lie to him – he preferred the term ‘hiding the truth’. A week had passed since they had become “a couple”, and there were no signs of Edward’s memory returning anytime soon. The doctors forced him to stay in the hospital until further notice and it seemed to piss him off.

“I don’t like being a deadweight”, Ed groaned as he took a bite of steak in the cafeteria. Oswald sipped on his coffee, nodding sympathetically. They were once again surrounded by newspapers and notes. The intensive care unit was far fuller than it had been a week ago and the cafeteria was quite packed. They had reserved a small round table from the very corner of the room and taken their research out of the hospital bed.

“Does the noise bother you?” Oswald asked and glanced around them. There were so many people sitting around, chatting, eating, waiting. Jerome Valeska had pulled a number with some crazy gas a week earlier and now people kept getting hospitalized. Ed shook his head and gave him a smile.

“I actually like it. It was so quiet in my room”, he said and grabbed a notebook from the table, scribbling something on it. “These newspapers are from four weeks ago, correct?”

“Yes”, Oswald muttered and took another sip. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Ed.” The brunette raised his head with a questioning look. “I’d be more than happy to tell you everything that has happened. Why do you want to backtrack using old newspapers?”

“This is fun”, Ed said, pushing his glasses on better. “It’s like one big puzzle. I have to scramble and get the pieces together and maybe I’ll finally understand what the hell happened.”

“Whatever. Have it your way”, Oswald complied and grabbed a random newspaper page from the pile, lazily skimming through it. He raised his mug to his lips and very nearly choked when he realized what the article before his eyes was about. He coughed violently and spilled some of the coffee on his white dress shirt. Edward looked up immediately and hurried to hand Oswald some napkins. He quickly cleaned up the mess, leaving a nasty brown stain on his shirt, and folded the newspaper article.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing”, Oswald said and put the paper into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.” Edward shrugged and concentrated on his notes again. Oswald felt his heart beating. “Sorry, I’ve got to make a call.” He got up before Ed could even say anything and was already halfway across the cafeteria when the brunette noticed he was going somewhere.

Oswald limped across the corner and stopped in his tracks. With shaky hands, he pulled the paper back out and unfolded it. It was from Gotham Daily, from around six weeks ago. It was just a small article at the corner of the page. He read:

_“...Gotham City Police Department has confirmed that two people were shot brutally in the head earlier in the afternoon. One of the victims was the influential Sofia Falcone, who was discovered shot in her basement by the GCPD. Falcone, the daughter of previously assassinated Don Carmine Falcone, was transferred into Gotham Central and deemed to be in a coma. Another victim was discovered at the nearby pier by Captain James Gordon. Edward Nygma, also known for his nickname The Riddler, was shot in the head in a similar fashion to Falcone. Police found two possibly guilty men from the pier; one shot to death nearby Nygma and the other floating in the river nearby the docks...”_

The article went on a bit more, talking about the Pyg’s attack to Falcone’s charity event at the orphanage and even mentioned Oswald by name. He skimmed through the text, heart pounding like crazy. Thank _god_ Ed did not find this, he thought to himself and shook his head lightly. This was the first article they’d find that even mentioned Ed or him. It was no surprise though; all news outlets were just filled with the Maniax nowadays.

“I got the best idea!”

Oswald almost pulled the gun from his pocket upon hearing the sudden voice from behind him. He spun around looking startled as hell and faced Ed, who was only a few inches from his face.

“Jesus Christ, don’t sneak up on people like that!” Oswald felt his face burning up. Edward looked like he had just kicked him. “S-sorry, I just got scared”, the shorter man continued and put the article in his pocket.

“Actually I lied, _you_ gave me the best idea”, Ed said with a wide smile.

“What?” Oswald said completely taken aback as they began walking back to their table. Ed hurried to take a seat and eagerly waited Oswald to settle. He raised his notebooks and grinned brightly.

“You know how you said, _‘Why do you want to backtrack using old newspapers?’_ Well, that gave me an idea.”

“I don’t follow”, Oswald said, borderline flustered by how well Edward had imitated his voice just now. It reminded him of when The Riddler had performed dressed up as him in the Narrows. He really wanted to forget that part of their relationship.

“I am in the past, never in the future. I don’t exist but have existed. I saw what you saw, and this is what I will ever see. What am I?”

“Wh- huh...” It was a riddle. Of fucking course it was a riddle. Oswald slammed his hand to his face and stayed silence for a really long moment. “I don’t know... Thoughts?”

“Close”, Ed was smiling. He was crafting a little origami penguin as they spoke. Oswald stared at his hands move. He remembered the last time Edward had given him a similar penguin. Of course, Ed didn't remember such detail, but it made Oswald's heart a little warmer. “Do you give up?”

“Wait”, Oswald raised his hand suddenly. “It’s memory. Isn’t it? Memory!”

Ed looked at him with a completely blank expression before grinning widely. “Yes!” he shouted loud enough for the couple at the next table to turn their heads. Ed was beaming, and Oswald couldn’t help but smile too.

“I still don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, though.”

“Maybe I don’t need any therapy or treatment, or anyone to sit down with me to tell about my past. Everything is already at my hands!” Ed raised a newspaper, looking more excited he had in a very long time.

“You want to skim through more old newspapers?” Oswald groaned with disbelief. His fingers had already been dyed grey from flipping through the pages and listing down all important things that had happened.

“I’m sure the central library has all newspapers from the past five years. Would you get them for me?” Ed said, placing a pencil behind his ear and starting to organize the papers in whatever logical order he deemed fitting. Oswald stared before snorting and breaking into laughter.

“Are you joking? FIVE YEARS WORTH OF NEWSPAPERS?” he screeched so loud he gained the attention of nearly everyone sitting within a ten feet radius. Well, everyone except Ed’s who hadn’t even blinked.

“Yes. We can go one week at a time”, he said like he was discussing the weather, and looked up from the papers. “Unless that’s too big of a task for you. I’d be more than happy to ask someone else for help. Jim Gordon, for example.” Oswald hated how easily Ed twirled him around his pinky. Jim’s name was all it took for him to change his mind around. Ed’s face had that familiar shit-eating grin on it. He had missed that grin so, so much.

“I’ll get them for you”, Oswald sighed defeatedly and rubbed the corners of his eyes. “What about radio? TV? Should I get old recordings?”

“That would be more than kind, Oswald”, Ed smiled and took the last bite of the already coldened steak that was left on his plate. He made a grossed out expression and spat the food into the nearest trash can. Oswald cackled and brushed his hand over Edward’s affectionately. Not a lot of stuff had happened between the two of them after the relationship confession. Oswald was trying to be as understanding as possible – this was all so foreign and confusing to Ed, and he was willing to take things slow if it meant for him to get a second chance at Edward’s love.

“Well if it isn’t Penguin.” For the second time within fifteen minutes Oswald nearly screamed and jumped in the air.

“Why are people always fucking walking up behind me?!” he screamed as he turned around. His expression turned from startled to annoyed the moment he recognized the man.

“Harvey”, Ed said, sounding genuinely pleasantly surprised to see the man. Oswald rolled his eyes and got up from his chair.

“What do you want, Bullock?”

“I wanna talk to Nygma”, Harvey stated, a fiendish tone in his voice. He looked at the brunette with an impatient expression. Ed’s eyes moved between Harvey and Oswald for a second before Oswald made the decision for him.

“Sorry, no can do”, he said and sat back down, turning his back to Bullock. “We’re busy. Something you’re probably not too familiar with, Harvey.” The bearded man scoffed and grabbed Edward’s arm.

“Won’t take long”, he promised as he pulled Ed roughly up from the chair. Oswald stared with a gaping mouth as Bullock dragged the utterly confused man out of the cafeteria. He was too confused to even go after them.

Oswald checked his watch. It had been ten minutes since Bullock had escorted Ed out. Another five minutes went by. Oswald was starting to worry. Another five. Had they arrested Ed for something? Once a full thirty minutes had gone by with no sign of Ed, Oswald finally stood up and grabbed his cane. He left the newspapers on the table to indicate they would return and began walking to the direction he suspected they had gone. He didn’t make it far, because just as he took a turn around the corner, he bumped into Bullock’s beer belly. He was flabbergasted for a second before he got his senses back.

“What the hell have you been doing? What too you so long?!” he demanded answers, red-faced. Harvey looked at him with the most confused expression on his face.

“What are ya talkin’ about? I let him go like twenty minutes ago.”

Oswald froze on the spot. What? WHAT? “He didn’t come back to the cafeteria? Why didn’t you escort him back?” It was an understatement to say he was fuming, but he was also filled to the brim with worry. Harvey scratched his head underneath his hat and shrugged.

“Figured he wouldn’t get lost on the way. I just took him to chat.”

“What were you ‘chatting’ about?” Oswald asked, making heavy air quotes with his hand on the chatting. “Actually, you know what? Forget it”, he continued before giving Harvey a chance to even open his mouth. “You cops are all incompetent in this city.” With that, he limped past Bullock and made sure to hit him “accidentally” with his shoulder when walking by.

“Whatever, Pengy.”

His facade might have been decent to indicate how angry he was, but in fact he was really starting to panic. Where the hell was Ed? Had he just gone back to his room? Had he escaped? Was he playing a trick on Oswald? What had Harvey told him? He took a stroll around the hallway on which Ed’s room was located but didn’t find the man from either the hallway or the room itself. His heartbeat kept rising as he was nearly running on the remotely empty hallways.

Finally, he hurried past a glass door but quickly backed enough to peek into the space. It was a balcony, probably intended for smoking breaks, and surprise surprise, a familiar man was leaning on the rail, back turned to the door. Oswald swung it open and immediately rushed to wrap his arms around the taller man. Ed flinched, but didn’t turn around or make any sound.

“Do you want to give me a heart failure? Don’t just run off like that!” Oswald howled as he finally let Ed go of his embrace and forced the man to face him. Ed’s hair was damp from the rain and his glasses were a bit foggy. In any other circumstance Oswald would have thought that he looked adorable, but now he was too worried to care. “What happened?”

“I just needed to breathe”, Ed gave him a smile, but it was the most ungenuine thing Oswald had seen. His brows furrowed and he pouted a little.

“You can trust me if something’s bothering you”, he said and grabbed Ed’s arm gently. “What did Bullock want?”

“He...”, Edward hesitated. He bit his lip gently and averted his gaze to the floor. Oswald brought his hand up to his chin and softly pulled Ed’s face closer to his.

“Tell me, Edward. Please.”

Edward sighed. His breath smelled like mint – maybe he had taken a cough drop... Oswald wanted nothing more than to erase that gloomy, uncertain look off Ed’s face and give him a long kiss. He knew, however, that it was too early for that. “He warned me about you”, Ed finally said and swallowed. “He said you’re dangerous, and that I shouldn’t converse with you if I want to be healed.”

Oswald let out an offended scoff and ogled Edward somewhat baffled. “Bullock said that?” he asked and made a mental note to punch the man in the face next time their paths crossed.

“Yes”, Ed adjusted his glasses and rubbed his arm. His hand touched Oswald’s, but he quickly put it down and turned away from him completely.

“You don’t actually believe him, do you?” Oswald couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was the fact that he was nervous as hell, maybe he tried to lighten the mood. Even he didn’t know.

“That’s not all”, Edward said quietly and leaned against the railing again, staring at the grey clouds covering the sky. “He said you’re a murderer.” A silence fell between them. Oswald’s mouth had frozen open. He stared at the back of Nygma’s head, feeling his mouth dry up. He didn’t know what to say. Of course, Bullock was right, and pretty much anyone in the city could back up the cop’s statement. Anyone but Ed, apparently.

“Ed”, he started, trying so hard to figure out what to say.

“Just please tell me the truth”, Ed interrupted and looked at Oswald over his shoulder. “I just want to know the truth. Hell, I just want to know _something_.”

Oswald looked at him for a moment before moving to stand at the edge of the balcony, also leaning to the railing. God, Ed was so much taller than him, but what else was new? “It’s true.” He didn’t look at Ed. He didn’t want to see his reaction. He had not been ready to come clean this early on. Ed’s warmth suddenly disappeared by his side. He had stepped backwards, and soon enough Oswald heard the balcony door open and close behind his back. He sighed and lit up a cigarette. Fucking brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i wrote this a few days ago and i rewatched some nygmobblepot scenes today; i completely forgot ed gave ozzie that penguin origami back at arkham, but when i realized the connection i squealed and added a line to the chapter lol


	6. you keep tearing me apart

Edward felt like he was having the worst hangover in history. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he had actually slept for more than a couple of hours. He took of his glasses, rubbing his dead-tired eyes and pinched them shut. The yellow table light was discomforting, but it was all he had going for him. He groaned silently and leaned back on the uncomfortable chair. He missed his house, his broken couch, his computer. He raised his notebook in the air and looked at the scribbles. They were incoherent. He had written them himself, but he was already so out of it that he would pass out soon. His headache had gotten worse.

The newspaper idea might not have been the best one he’d ever had, but he had already started the project and he was not a quitter. It would have been easier to focus on the articles if a certain man wasn’t lingering on his thoughts constantly. Every time Ed closed his eyes, he could see Oswald. He had dreams about him. He heard his voice when he wasn’t even there. They hadn’t seen one another in four days. After the little murderous confession he hadn’t visited in the hospital. It was eating him up inside.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was past three in the morning. If he went to bed now, he could get about four hours of sleep before breakfast and then begging for someone to take him to the nearest library. He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without someone breathing into his neck. Infuriating. He threw the notebook on the floor and muffled a shout into his sleeve. God, it was so frustrating.

“Why the hell is no one telling me anything? What happened for it to be so secretive?” he muttered to himself, massaging his temples. “Come oooon, Ed. Think. Thinkthinkthinkthinkthink...” It didn’t help whatsoever. Doctor Miller had asked yesterday what his last memory was before a blackout. He couldn’t give an answer. That was his starting point. He needed a memory to get a guideline. A clue. He had to think like a detective. Now he understood why everyone at the GCPD was always so angry.

“This is just a big puzzle. You love puzzles. Fucking figure it out.”

 

Ed snapped awake so suddenly he almost fell out of his chair. He had fallen asleep at his desk and his cheek was dirty from the newspapers. He quickly checked the time. A little past seven. He stretched his whole lanky body, emitting multiple loud cracks from his bones, and yawned long and hard. He tried to remember the dream he had awoken from, but his brain felt like slime. He needed to wash his face. Maybe even his whole body. His hair was greasy, and he probably smelt disgusting. There was a small cabinet in the corner of his room, and he found a clean change of clothes as well as a towel from there. He sharpened his memory and remembered there was a showering area near his room in the hall. The hallways were quiet and very empty – he only passed one nurse on his way to the bathrooms.

He was glad to find the showers just as empty and silent as the rest of the hospital. He tinkered with the door a little bit and got it to lock; he didn’t really care if someone else walked in but at the same time he really needed to be alone with his thoughts. He quickly undressed from the gross shirt and pants combo he had been wearing, took off his glasses and picked the shower furthest from the door. He let out a silent, pleased curse when the hot water hit his body. God, he had already forgotten how nice a shower felt like... He even managed to find a nasty bottle of shampoo from the floor in his showering cubicle and managed to get most of the grease out of his locks.

He put the towel around his lower torso upon getting out of the cubicle and leaned against the sink. He stared at his reflection. The shower may have made him less stinky, but he was still a mess. He had no idea how long he had stayed in the shower, but it had been enough to make the entire room foggy. The moisture in the air settled on the mirror, making it even blurrier than Ed saw it to begin with. He sighed and closed his eyes. He concentrated, tried to grasp any slither of a memory he could.

“You really are the most pathetic loser I’ve ever seen.”

Ed jumped and almost slipped on the wet floor. He scrambled to put on his glasses. There was no one else in the bathroom with him. The voice had been so familiar. So close...

“Does that say Gotham Daily on your cheek?” Oh no. Oh god no. He raised his head and looked at the blurry mirror. His body was trembling, and it wasn’t because of the cold air hitting his body. With a shaky arm, he reached for the large mirror and swiped the mist off of it. And nearly screamed out loud.

“Are you kidding me?” he got out of his mouth and felt like he was going to faint.

“You tell me. Since when are we the ‘breakdown in the bathroom’ type of guy? Oh wait... Since forever.” It was him. Or, well, of course it wasn’t. He really had thought he would have gotten himself in check within those five years he couldn’t remember a thing about, but apparently not. The Ed Nygma in the reflection was sitting on the countertop, looking both bored yet amused, a condescending smile on his lips.

“What the hell are you doing here? Now?” Edward growled through his teeth.

“I’m always here, you moron. I’m you, remember? That’s kind of the whole thing”, Ed laughed, gesturing between him and the real deal.

“I’m _not_ going through this again.” Water was dripping from his hair to his face.

“Oh, but you should, Ed. You see, _I_ remember everything from the past five years and oh boy has it been-“

“You what?” Ed’s eyes widened. “Wait. If you remember that means I remember too. But... but why do I not remember?”

“Remember what our mission was, Eddie? What did you see on Kristen’s arms?” His reflection stood up and straightened his tie.

“What?” Ed closed his eyes, trying to grasp anything going through in his head. Kristen’s arms? “I don’t understand what you’re saying?”

Mirror Ed laughed pitifully. “That sounds like a personal problem. Should I help you out?”

“Please, just- I have to know what’s going on!” His knuckles were white as snow. Was he really fighting with his own alter ego in a hospital bathroom wearing nothing but a scrawny towel? His breath was hitched, and droplets of sweat were forming on his forehead. What the hell was he talking about? What had he seen on Ms. Kringle’s arms?

“What can you have on your arms? Uhh... Sleeves, jewellery, wristbands, tattoos? Something written down? I write stuff on my hands all the time...”

“Not even close”, Ed snorted and leaned into the counter. “By the way, you should stop doing that. You’re gonna get a poisoning one day.”

“Don’t pretend to care and HELP ME!” Edward roared, hitting the mirror with his fist. He had not expected to be as powerful as he was, and the whole mirror shattered on the counter with an enormous crash. Ed cursed and grabbed his hand. His knuckles were bleeding. It was a miracle if no one had heard that. He stared at the concrete wall now exposed from where the mirror used to be. Ed was gone, and he probably wouldn’t be back for a while.

He was bewildered and the stinging pain in his right hand didn’t make things much better. He sunk onto the floor and buried his face into his hands. What the fuck? What the fuck? What was that? How could he know but not know? What was that shithead trying to tell him? What did he see on Kristen’s arms?

“Think, you damn idiot”, he muttered as he stared at his damaged hand. There would be a noticeable bruise for days...

Bruise. Bruises.

It clicked in his head so suddenly he let out an audible gasp. Suddenly he saw it all clear as day. He remembered confronting Kristen about the bruising on her arms. She had refused to talk about it, told him she was fine. A clear lie. And then she had gone talk to...

“Officer Dougherty!” he raised his head and immediately banged it loudly against the sink. He scrambled up from the floor and got dressed in record speed. He had a memory. He remembered something. He wasn’t a total screwup. He left the shower room in questionable condition and speed-walked into his room, head still spinning from the blast. He didn’t trust his head. He hurried straight into his room and immediately grabbed the first piece of paper he found, scribbling Dougherty’s name to it. He was positively vibrating. He had a starting point. He couldn’t hold back a victorious scream which probably startled everyone in the hallway.

Two minutes later he found himself at the reception desk on the first floor. The line was long, and he was fidgeting with a piece of paper to keep himself busy. It was a purple post-it note with a phone number written on it. He had drawn a small penguin next to it so he wouldn’t accidentally throw it away. He didn’t have his own phone in his room – who knew where he had put it before getting shot? After what felt like a month, he finally reached the start of the line and leaned down to speak to the woman on the other side of the glass.

“I have to make a call”, he informed impatiently. He was tapping the counter with his right hand.

“Sir... Is your hand alright?” the woman was staring at his knuckles and he quickly hid his hand in the pocket of his pants.

“Yes. Phone, please?”

He got to borrow the office phone and almost dropped the thing in his hurry to enter the number into the dialler. He had no idea why he was calling Oswald now after not conversing for five days, but right now Oswald was the only person who he could trust. He was twitching, trying to sneak as far into the nearest corner as possible to have some resemblance of privacy.

“Oswald Cobblepot”, came a monotonous answer from the speaker.

“I remember”, Ed didn’t even bother to introduce himself.

“What?” Oswald sputtered, suddenly sounding much more enthusiastic about the conversation.

“I remember something from before my memory cuts out!” he spoke quickly, surprised at how excited he felt. “Please, I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“I- Of course? What do you need?” he heard shuffling, some clacking sound. Probably his cane.

“Can you please call Jim and ask for officer Tom Dougherty’s phone number? I need to talk with him.”

The line was silent for so long that Edward thought the connection had cut out. “Hello?”

“Aaa- I don’t think Jim would give me anything if I’m honest”, Oswald said finally and chuckled nervously.

“Why not? You’re friends”, Ed asked, running his hand through his damp hair. “Well, could you give me Jim’s number, then? I can call him myself. It’ll be fine!”

“Ed, just... Can I come there? We could talk face-to-face.”

“Of course”, Ed felt secretly very relieved. He missed Oswald. Even though he had basically run away after the Penguin’s confession on the balcony earlier, he felt the need to talk to someone he deemed as a friend. Maybe even more than a friend.

“I’ll be there in 10”, Oswald said and ended the call without even saying goodbye. Ed returned the phone but couldn’t bring himself to get back into the third floor. He walked aimlessly around the main lobby, probably looking lost as hell. He needed to know where Dougherty was. What he was doing. Who he was with. Right. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys have no idea how difficult it was to write and construct that shower room scene - i got so so confused with which ed was speaking fjdksjfdkl god damn it. hope it was still coherent!


	7. tell me that i'm not crazy

“Eleven and a half minutes!” Edward screeched the moment he saw the raven-haired man limping to his direction. Oswald made a painful-looking eyeroll and poked Ed with his cane.

“Let’s get somewhere private”, he commanded, and Edward complied in an instant. Both of them seemed to think Ed’s room was the best place for a heart-to-heart, and so their steps lead them to the elevators. They were silent for the whole time they travelled to the room. Honestly, it didn’t seem like either of them knew how to start the conversation. Oswald’s mind was bouncing between the murder conversation they had earlier and the recent phone call. Either way this conversation was not going to end well.

Ed opened the room door and claimed the bed for himself. Oswald shook the jacket off his shoulders and placed it on the chair, taking a seat with an interested expression on his face. “So, this Dougherty guy”, he tilted his head a bit and lifted his right leg on top of the left one.

“Yes”, Ed said and subconsciously grazed over his injured knuckles with his long fingers. “Officer Tom Dougherty is a co-worker of mine. He- we are- were? Ugh, we both like Kristen Kringle”, he was stumbling with his words, trying to find the least offensive way to put things. “But I know he abused her. That’s the memory I remember, her bruised arms. I remember talking to her about it, and then I think Dougherty threatened to rough me up if I came between him and Kristen, and-“

“Okay, slow the hell down”, Oswald raised his hand to pause the blabbering. “You do realize this was five years ago by now, right? There’s nothing you can do about the situation.”

“Yes, but just listen to me!” Ed didn’t mean to be so loud, but he couldn’t hold back. “Who knows, maybe I’m just bitter over not ever getting a chance with Kristen...” Oswald bit the inside of his cheek, “but I feel like this memory came to me for a reason. It means something. And I really think that talking to Dougherty or Kristen will help me remember more.”

Oswald looked at him with a pitiful expression, but there was also a smidge of smirk on his face. Edward furrowed his brows. “What?” he asked. “What’s that expression supposed to mean? Does it not make sense?”

“Ed. There are so many things you don’t know yet...”, Oswald said, trailing off and moved his fingers along his lips.

“Then TELL me!” Oswald almost jumped up from the chair. Edward had stood up and was right in front of him. Oswald felt Ed’s hand on his tie. He pulled him closer, forcing Oswald to look him straight in the eyes. “Tell me. Please.” His voice was so small all of sudden, so desperate. Oswald opened his mouth and closed it again. Opened and closed. He had no idea what to say. What was he even allowed to say? Would this mess up Ed completely? Would he even believe Oswald?

“Let’s... let’s sit down”, he requested as kindly as possible. Ed complied after a few seconds, slumping back onto the bed and letting go of Oswald’s tie. Oswald hesitated a little before moving from the chair to the bed himself. He looked at Ed who was glaring at him underneath his brows.

“I honestly don’t know how to start, Ed”, he opened his mouth after a long moment and took Edward’s hand into his own. “This will sound mad. It will sound unbelievable, but listen to me. Okay?” Ed nodded, looking at his hand in Oswald’s. He was surprised Oswald hadn’t mentioned his knuckles.

“Tom Dougherty is dead”, Oswald said and looked at Ed without a blink. It didn’t seem to register in Ed’s head at first. And that assumption would be correct. Edward just stared into Oswald’s eyes, expression slowly changing from pleading to utterly confused.

“Come again?”

“Dougherty is dead. Very dead. Has been for a good while”, Oswald said, making a small circle on Ed’s palm with his thumb.

“Oh my god”, Ed muttered, but didn’t seem necessarily shocked or upset. More-so, Oswald would have described his expression as thoughtful. The cogs were turning in his head. Oswald almost hoped this fact would wake up something inside Ed’s brain, but his prayers were not heard. “How’d he die?”

“He got stabbed outside of his apartment. From what I heard”, he added the last part to not seem too guilty in Ed’s eyes. Edward was tapping his chin with his finger, completely lost in thought.

“A murder, huh? Did the culprit ever get caught?”

“Yes”, Oswald said, having a very hard time hiding his smile. This was way funnier than he had expected. “I’ve met him, actually. You’ve met him too.”

Ed’s thoughtful expression switched back to confusion, and then into something perhaps resembling a realization. “Oh dear. It was someone from GCPD, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Oswald’s voice was lower, he was squeezing Ed’s hand harder than he even realized.

“He was an ass, but I don’t know anyone who hated him enough to kill him. The only person who really feared him was Ms. Kringle but there is no way she could have ever hurt another person, especially the one she was in a relationship with...”, Ed let out all his thoughts as they popped into his brain.

“Do we really not know anyone who hated him with a burning passion? Someone who was always belittled by him, someone who always got bested by him...”, Oswald grinned avidly, not even bothering to hide his slightly trembling body. Edward was quiet for a while before he slammed a hand on his mouth.

“No.”

“No what, Ed?”

“It couldn’t be me”, he whispered, eyes so wide Oswald could see the white all around the irises.

“And why is that?” Oswald looked at his fingernails.

“Because I’m not an insane person?!” Edward snapped and ripped his hand away from Oswald. Oswald turned to look at him in an instant, smile nowhere to be seen. “How... how dare you even accuse me of something like that?” Ed demanded, shaking.

“I don’t mean you. Oh, Ed...”

“What do you mean, then?” Ed pushed his glasses aggressively up his nose. “Who do you mean?!” he reached for Oswald’s tie again, this time pulling him so near their noses were almost touching. Oswald stared deep into the brown eyes, eyes which seemed to have lost their sparkle. After some silence, Oswald begun to tremble more prominently. He spurted into a small giggle.

“You think this is funny to you?” Ed gripped his neck and squeezed hard enough to get a small wheeze out of his throat.

“Oh, there he is”, Oswald’s smile hadn’t fallen despite being choked. In fact, it had only enlarged it. Ed’s angry face faltered a bit. He was looking so deep into his eyes, as if they could just tell him all the answers. “He’s taking control again, isn’t he?”

“Shut up. You don’t know me”, Ed whispered with gritted teeth.

“Oh but I do, Ed. I know everything about you. I know more about you thank you know about yourself.” They were so close they were practically breathing the same air particles. “Who is it this time, I wonder? Is it the Ed who killed Dougherty? The one who butchered him and sliced him to little pieces?”

Suddenly, Ed let go of him and pulled back, grabbing his head. He was straight up screaming. Oswald was so taken aback all he could do was look as Ed fell onto the floor on his knees, holding his head. Edward felt like his head was going to explode. He saw something even though his eyes were closed. He... It was a street. He was sitting in a car. Waiting? A figure came out of one of houses. He walked up to the man. It was Dougherty. The rest was a huge blur of incoherent shouting, flashes of color. Red. Red. It was blood red. Covering his hands, his arms, the ground beneath the corpse.

“Ed!”

He opened his eyes and gasped for air like he had nearly drowned. His view was blurry. He didn’t have his glasses on. He was trembling like he was running a 200 degree fever. He felt someone’s hand’s around him. Multiple people, to be exact. He was lifted up and placed on a soft surface. Somewhere deep down he recognized it as a bed. He didn’t have the energy to struggle as he got plugged to all kinds of machines and tubes. He heard elusive talking but couldn’t focus on it. Everything started spinning and he fell into an abyss of darkness.

~~~

When he finally cracked his eyes open, the room was dark. Only a small nightlight was on, illuminating a figure sitting on the bed by his side. Even without his glasses he could recognize the spiky hair and the prominent nose. Oswald was holding something that resembled a folder of some sort and didn’t seem to pay much attention to Edward. That was, before he let out a groan and began groping the mattress around him, looking for his glasses.

“God fucking damn it, you scared me shitless”, Oswald whispered and handed the man his glasses. Ed didn’t say anything as he placed the glasses on his nose and looked around. The heart monitor was beeping in the background again. His mind was blurry, but he started to slowly remember what had occurred. “You were out for a good seven hours.”

“I killed Tom Dougherty.”

Oswald looked at him with a slightly amused expression. “Glad we came to an agreement.”

“What the hell... have I gotten myself into?” Ed shuddered mid-sentence and ruffled his hair. “Do... do people know?”

“Oh yes”, Oswald said and handed him the file. “Stay down. Doctor’s orders.” Ed took the thin folder and examined the contents. There were only a couple of papers, so he skimmed through it in a matter of minutes. He lingered on the last page for some time longer.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“I can”, Oswald took the file and threw it on the table. “And once we get that memory of yours back, you’ll believe it too.” He smiled and booped Edward on the nose. Ed didn’t return the smile. He looked disoriented.

“If I killed Dougherty, what happened to Ms. Kringle?” he asked finally and licked his lips nervously. Oswald had suspected that question, but he genuinely wasn’t sure if he was the right person to tell about her.

But of course, he did. He told everything Ed had told him, which was pretty detailed stuff. He explained how Ed had forged a note in Dougherty’s handwriting to fool Kringle into thinking he had just left town for good. He told about them miraculously starting a relationship of some sort. Just to keep his own sanity, he didn’t go into too much detail. It hurt to talk about even though he hadn’t even known Ed when this had been going on. Finally, he reached the climax of the story.

“When you decided to take the next step in your relationship, you thought it would only be fair to tell Kristen what actually happened to her previous... lover.”

“Wait, what? I _confessed a murder_?” Ed had been completely silent up until this point of the story, but finally spurted out a question. “Like an idiot?”

“Apparently”, Oswald said. “And Kristen didn’t take it quite as well as you had anticipated.”

“Oh god. I guess she broke up with me and never wanted to see me ever again?” Ed muttered.

“Oh. Well, she tried.”

“What do you mean?”

“When she was trying to run away from you, you grabbed her and tried to make her stay. You...”, Oswald hesitated a bit and bit his lip. “You accidentally strangled her to death.”

Ed’s face went completely blank. He just stared at Oswald for what felt like half an hour. Oswald stared back, barely blinking. Then, without saying a word, Ed shifted in his bed and turned away from Oswald, burying his face into the pillows. Oswald opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He felt the bed vibrating lightly underneath him. For a second, he was confused until he realized it was Edward creating the movement. His whole body was quivering beneath the blanket. He heard a sniffle and his heart broke into a million pieces.

He stayed next to Ed for a long time. He didn’t say a word, just softly rubbed the lump which was Ed’s curled up body underneath the covers. He didn’t feel like it was his place to talk. He just listened to the uncontrollable sobs emitting from the man. It was like someone was beating his heart with a hammer. He had expected Ed to be upset, maybe angry again, maybe in denial or accusing Oswald of being a liar, but this absolute depressive state he was in right now was not something he had ever seen Ed go through. He had no clue how to deal with it.

“Ed, you should drink some water”, he finally said when he felt Ed had finished with the worst of it, speaking as softly as possible. He was surprised to actually see Ed’s head peek from the cocoon he had built. It was reminiscent of when Ed had gotten the news about Isabella. He looked numb, cold and was dead quiet. He had removed his glasses and his hair was mostly on his face. He moved his eyes slowly to the water cup Oswald was holding out for him. Still quiet and shaking a little, he sat up and with the help of the raven-haired man, got the whole plastic cup emptied. If Oswald knew anything from breakdowns, it was that you needed to stay hydrated or you would pass out and make it even worse.

“I’m sorry about how insensitive I was”, Oswald tried initiating a conversation with the silent blob that was Ed. “I shouldn’t have pressured you over Dougherty. And I shouldn’t have just spurted out what happened with Ms. Kringle.”

“I don’t understand.” Ed’s voice was nearly unrecognizable. So hoarse, so dry, so weak.

“Do you trust my word for it?”

“I saw it”, Edward sighed. “It was another... vision. Once you had said it, the memory came to me. I remember the whole night, how I grabbed her and squeezed, and squeezed... Squeezed until there was nothing left.” Ed had moved so he could look Oswald directly in the eyes.

“I don’t remember anything following that.”

“It’s okay”, Oswald leaned in and brushed the hairs off Ed’s face. “You’ll be just okay.” His heart skipped a beat when he pressed his lips against Edward’s. He shuddered and closed his eyes, trying to keep his face neutral. He would never forgive himself if he burst out laughing on Ed’s face during their first kiss. To his pleasant surprise, Ed didn’t push him away. It wasn’t a glorious, sensual kiss, but Oswald had been waiting for it for years. He could not have been more pleased with himself as he licked Edward’s lips and got to taste the salty taste of the man’s tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally we get some action up in here


	8. i'm not asking for a lot

Oswald groaned as he raised his head. God damn it, his back was killing him. He straightened his posture slowly and looked around, flabbergasted. Ed was asleep on the bed, his breathing calm and quiet. He had fallen asleep on top of Ed in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. His back made a loud crack as he moved around, and he cursed as he moved to sit on the chair next to the bed. The events of yesterday were lingering at the back of his mind. He needed a new plan now that Ed had started to remember things. He needed a solid story from a specific point onward, and now that Ed had mentioned those visions of his, he wasn’t sure if their relationship would be on such a stable ground.

Sighing, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and his eyes widened as he looked at the screen. There were six missed calls, all from Jim. He hesitated before calling the man back. He answered almost immediately.

“Was about time you picked up”, Jim’s voice felt impatient. “Where’s Ed?”

“Huh? He’s right here, asleep”, Oswald had a sensation he knew where this was going.

“Did he go and steal Tom Dougherty’s file from the precinct archives?”

“Oh, no. That was me, and it was more like borrowing than stealing”, Oswald chuckled. “Sorry.”

He heard a loud, irritated sigh from the speaker. “What’s this game you’re playing, Penguin?”

“I’m playing no games. I just... refreshed his memory and thought it would be good to have some evidence to support my words”, he said, glancing at Ed who had shuffled on the bed.

“What do you mean? Does he remember?”

“Yes, Jim. He’s becoming the man he once was”, Oswald smiled to himself. “No need to thank me.”

“I swear to God...”, Jim muttered.

“There is nothing you can do to stop me, Jim. Or are you actually going to try prevent the dear Edward from remembering?”

“Harvey was right. You shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near him as he heals.” Click. Oswald ended the call and threw his phone onto the nearest wall so aggressively the battery flew out. He rubbed his face, fuming in frustration. There was nothing Jim could legally do. Ed wanted to be near him. This was between the two of them.

“Good morning to you too”, Ed muttered barely audible and looked at the broken phone with a slightly irritated expression. Oswald jumped a bit and hurried to sit back onto the bed. “Who was it?”

“Jim. I probably shouldn’t have stolen Dougherty’s file from the archives, he sounded pretty mad.”

“Oh, fuck, I nearly forgot about that”, Ed moaned and put his glasses on. Oswald looked at him with a slight smile. He looked really adorable, even with the gross needles and tubes around him. He hadn’t brushed his hair since taking the shower and it had naturally curled up, draping across his forehead.

“Oh, and I have a gift for you”, Oswald remembered suddenly and got up. He walked up to the table which was still a nasty mess of loose and crumpled up notes and picked up a pile of newspapers tied together with a string. He dropped the package at Ed’s feet and the man immediately sat up, staring at them intensely. “Tom Dougherty went missing on September 15th, 2009. This”, he ripped the first newspaper from the pile and handed it to Ed, “is Gotham Daily from the 15th. You’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe you actually brought them!” Ed sounded extremely pleased which made Oswald’s smile even wider.

“Should we start digging, then?”

They spent about two hours going through September’s newspapers and discussing the stuff in them. There wasn’t necessarily anything about Dougherty, or Kringle, or even Ed himself, but Nygma seemed to be completely entranced by the papers. Every once in a while, he asked Oswald to clear something he didn’t understand written down and did a whole load of notes. Oswald himself merely pretended to work while his mind was completely elsewhere. With every passing newspaper, they got closer and closer to The Riddler. Slowly but surely.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?” Oswald finally opened his mouth after a lot of thinking. He had already apologized, but he was positive that Ed still had a ton of thoughts left in his head. Ed didn’t raise his head from his notebook, but his hand stopped writing.

“I don’t even know what to start with”, he sighed and dropped the pen on his lap. His face looked tense; he was scrunching his eyebrows together so hard it probably hurt the muscles. “But I’m not... angry at you, if that’s what you think. You simply wanted to help me remember.”

“Yes.”

“It seems like you know about my little... problem of an alter ego.”

“Yes”, Oswald repeated and couldn’t help but snort.

“He appeared yesterday when I was in the shower room. That’s why my knuckles are all messed up, I punched through the mirror. But he was the one who helped me remember about the bruises on Ms. Kringle’s arms”, Ed explained, scratching his head.

“Uh-huh?” Oswald leaned forward a bit, starting to put the pieces together in his head.

“Which means somewhere deep down, that alter ego knows everything that has happened to me in the past half a decade. He mocked me for being stupid.”

Oswald’s leg slipped and he almost fell off the bed upon hearing the exact thing he had been thinking about. So The Riddler was still in there somewhere... Would he come out if Oswald said his name out loud? This meant if he could just get the switch clicked inside Ed’s head, stuff would get about a hundred times easier. But, on the other hand, it meant that Ed would see through this relationship facade of his. He realized he had completely ignored the last few sentences Ed had blabbered out and concentrated on the brunette again, nodding as if he hadn’t just missed most of the monologue.

“So you’ll do it for me?” Edward asked, eyes like a puppy’s. Oswald cursed his stupid brain for nodding.

“I’m sorry, do what?”

“You weren’t listening to me”, Ed sighed and nudged Oswald’s thigh with his foot. “You need to help me awaken him.” Oswald looked at Ed like he was a ghost.

“Are you sure?” he finally said after coughing. “I mean, you remember what happened the last time you got controlled by him. You killed two people, Ed.”

“Yes, but what choice do I have? It’s the fastest and most truthful way!” Ed pushed some of the messy curls out of his eyes.

“What do you mean by truthful?” Oswald sounded suspicious. “Do- do you not trust me?”

“Ugh, of course I do. I just don’t trust my own head.”

“He literally _is in your head_ , ED!”

They stared at each other for a bit without saying anything. Oswald felt his face getting redder by the second. Ed had crossed his arms and refused to be the one to break the silence.

“Well, genius, what is your plan for this awakening?” Oswald finally snarled and hit the bed with his palms.

“That... part is still a work in progress.” Ed adjusted his glasses and began fidgeting with his notebook.

“You’re the biggest pain I’ve ever had in my ass”, Oswald scoffed.

They fell silent again and continued their research project. Oswald still wasn’t concentrating on the job at hand, his mind was riddled. Riddled was actually quite the perfect term for the current situation. It didn’t look like Edward was completely focusing on what he was doing either. He had seen that expression on Nygma’s face before.

“You look quite... enigmatic, if I may.”

“Hilarious, Oswald. I’ve never heard that one before”, Ed raised his eyes, but Oswald could see he was holding back a smirk. “Who’s Theo Galavan and why was he running for mayor?” The change in subject was so sudden Oswald took a second to even realize what Ed had asked.

“Theodore Galavan was... a perplexed, brutal, disgusting lunatic”, he responded very slowly. He could feel his blood boiling just from thinking about the man. The gruesome memory of his beloved mother was enough to make him waver.

“It says here someone attempted to assassinate him while he was giving a speech while announcing his mayoral candidacy on September 28th.”

“It was a fabrication. He ordered me to do it”, Oswald clenched his teeth hard enough to cause pain to his jaws. “That man made me do horrid things. Played me like a fool.”

“I’m sorry”, Ed muttered, scanning the big news article through again. He didn’t actually sound necessarily apologetic. “Do tell more”, he continued after Oswald had fallen silent.

“You’re in for a ride”, Oswald warned and straightened his back as if it would have made him less sentimental about the subject. “A very long story short, he comes from the Dumas family, who-“

“-used to be one of the most influential families in Gotham around the 19th century, yes”, Ed interrupted him.

“Yes. They returned under the family name of Galavan and had a plan to take over Gotham. Rule it again, revenge on the Wayne’s for some wrongdoings between them. I honestly didn’t care about the story until I got tangled up in their mess”, Oswald’s hand had curled up into a fist. “He broke a bunch of freaks out of Arkham and formed a group called the Maniax. They started terrorizing the city and, in the meantime, Galavan kidnapped Aubrey James and ran for mayor.”

“I mean, you have to admire the amount of crazy in that guy”, Ed admitted and twirled his finger around one of the most prominent curls in his hair.

“He then forced me to work for him, made me do that fake assassination attempt and kill the two other candidates that were against him.”

“Never mind, he can choke”, Ed retracted his statement and got a chuckle out of Oswald. An image of Galavan with his umbrella down his throat still brought him glee. “How’d he get the advantage of you, though? You seem like a very strong person.”

Oswald was flattered by the compliment, and it gave him enough courage to keep going. “He... kidnapped my mother. Said that if I did everything he told me to, they’d let her go. He lied.”

“And that’s how your mother...”

“Yes. His sister stabbed her.”

“I’m so sorry”, Ed said again and this time it actually felt genuine. He had abandoned the newspaper and reached for Oswald’s hand. A gentle squeeze was enough to warm his heart.

“Oh, it’s quite alright”, he smiled. “I got my vengeance. Eventually.”

“After what I learnt yesterday, I won’t judge you”, Ed gave a satire half-smile.

“I actually didn’t even kill him, believe it or not. It was Jim Gordon”, Oswald brushed his thumb over Ed’s damaged knuckles. Ed’s eyes widened, but he didn’t ask further questions.

“We got into a battle and his sister shot me in the shoulder. I escaped into the woods and... that’s where you get into the story.” Oswald looked at Ed and smiled. “You saved my life. Do you remember?”

Ed was quiet for a moment, closing his eyes and thinking. At last, he sighed and shook his head. “I don’t. Dammit.”

“To be fair, we’ve had a wild day and a half. Maybe you should take a break?” Oswald wasn’t phased by the fact that Ed didn’t remember their encounter. It was to be expected. Ed didn’t look too convinced.

“I just took a five-week break from living when I was in the come, Oswald.”

Oswald laughed and scooted closer to Edward, still holding his hand. “You always were a workaholic.” He raised Ed’s hand and kissed the bruised part. His hand flinched a tiny bit upon contact, but Ed didn’t pull it away. Just watched as Oswald worked his way from his knuckles all through his exposed arm and up to his shoulder. Oswald thanked the lord in his mind for making Ed wear a tank top. It left nothing to imagination, and while in clothes Edward kind of looked like a baby giraffe with limbs too long to function, there was actually a fair bit of muscle around his bones.

“Are you just going to stop there?” Ed looked downwards at Oswald who was in a slightly awkward position, partly laying on top of Ed who was still sitting, breathing against the warm skin.

“Just testing the waters”, Oswald huffed quietly. “Don’t mind if I do...” His voice trailed off as he moved in and pressed his lips on Ed’s neck. An inaudible gasp escaped the brunette’s throat and Oswald felt lightheaded as he moved around his throat. Ed tasted better than he had expected someone who had spent close to two months in a hospital to taste. He nibbled the skin hungrily and repositioned himself to take a seat on Edward’s lap, not allowing the skin-mouth contact to break at any moment.

“If you really want me to help you with the other Ed...”, Oswald exhaled as he finally let go of the other’s neck and looked at his work proudly. A few faint hickeys had already started to form, and there were multiple bite marks, especially from his sharp canines.

“I do”, Ed sighed, cautiously placing his hands around Oswald’s waist. “Make me remember, Oswald.”

“I think this is a good place to start”, Oswald grinned and closed the tiny gap between their mouths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the hardest part writing this fic is the fact that i truly feel like ed trying to scramble all the events together; having watched all seasons in less than a month, it all really becomes a massive blur of random events and i can't remember for the life of me in which order do they happen  
> i spent a good 20 minutes skimming through oswald's wikia page just to get an idea of the timeline - it's crazy how much stuff i forgot in such a small timeframe. hell, i didn't even remember who shot ozzie lmao  
> oh and again, since there are no canon dates as far as i'm aware, i'm just making everything up as i go :D


	9. i'd drive through the night

”Please.”

”Mr. Nygma, you must understand that you leaving our sight could be tremendously-“

“Please, Doctor.”

“I see why you’d want this done, but my answer is the same as it has been for the past five-“

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease”, Edward clasped his hands together and gave Miller his best puppy eyes.

“-pleases, Edward”, the doctor finished his sentence as if he hadn’t just been interrupted multiple times and crossed his arms as a sign that the conversation was over. Edward sighed, making the little curls bounce on his forehead. He was in need of a haircut. He had even reduced himself from the calm and calculated Ed to a childish beggar, but he still hadn’t gotten what he wanted. Dr. Miller looked at him with a sympathetic expression and reached to pat his shoulder.

“We’ll do our best to make your extended stay here as comfortable as possible, Mr. Nygma.”

“Great”, Ed responded, flashed a fake smile and turned on his heels. He left Miller standing in the middle of the hallway and walked into the main lobby. Oswald was sitting on one of the larger sofas, completely alone even though there were quite a few visitors at the hospital. It seemed like none of the guests dared go to Penguin’s territory. Well, except for the very familiar blonde man standing in front of him, holding a file in his hands. Edward slumped onto the sofa without saying a word and gave Oswald a disappointed glance.

“They can’t legally make you stay here”, Oswald sounded irritated.

“If you’re a possible threat to the public with your condition, they can, actually”, Jim closed the file and raised his eyes to the pair. “It doesn’t seem like anything’s missing. You can just ask if you want to _borrow_ something next time.”

“Did you really think I’d lose three papers on my way here?” Oswald scoffed and sneaked his arm on the backrest, behind Ed’s neck, and started playing with the shorter hairs on the man’s nape. Edward could feel goosebumps on his arms. Jim opened his mouth to respond, but Edward was faster.

“I’m not a threat”, he said, sounding ever so slightly offended.

“Sounds like something a threat would say”, Jim gave an obnoxiously fake smile which made Nygma even more pissed off.

“We literally just want to go for a walk”, Oswald tugged on Ed’s hair a bit harder than he had anticipated and he let out a small yelp. Jim, who didn’t see the placement of Cobblepot’s hand, looked at him with a confused expression.

“I said yes”, Edward quickly explained and nodded as a confirmation.

“A walk, huh?” Jim didn’t look very convinced. Oswald gave him a nasty glare which seemed to work for their favour, because Jim decided to drop the subject.

“I’ll get going. Don’t steal things from me again, Penguin.”

“Or what?” Oswald’s shit-eating grin was enough for Jim to turn around and walk away after saying a very short “bye” to Ed. They sat silent for a moment, just looking after Gordon.

“So I’ll sneak out?” Edward broke the silence like nothing had happened and stood up from the uncomfortably stiff couch.

“Yep.”

“Eleven pm sound good to you?”

“Splendid”, Oswald smiled.

~~~

Edward had a plan. He had told the last nurse that had visited him that he was very exhausted and didn’t wish to be disturbed for the rest of the evening. The woman had actually been incredibly sweet and Ed had felt slightly bad for taking such advantage of her. He had raided the lost and found items box in the main lobby and stolen a backpack. In there, he had stuck all of his notebooks as well as the news articles that seemed the most important to him. Oswald should have a flashlight and everything necessary for their little trip. He had sneaked a couple of protein bars from the cafeteria without anyone noticing, just in case they got hungry or tired at any point. The convenient box had also had a baseball cap in it, and even though his facade was basically non-existent, it seemed like a decent idea to cover some of his face underneath the cap – just in case someone saw him lurking.

As the clock turned to 10:55, it was time for him to take that carefully crafted plan and put it into action. He peered through the blinds of his room window in search of possible nurses or doctors, but everyone was long gone from the dimly lit hallway. He opened his door and slid out, making sure to not make a sound. He put the cap on his head and after checking the hallway again, sprinted into the elevator. He almost had a panic attack as he waited for the stupid thing to arrive on floor three, but he managed to get in and downstairs without anyone surprising him.

The problems started as soon as the elevator let out a small “ding” and the automatic doors opened. Ed very quickly realized he was staring right at Dr. Miller, who was about to step in the elevator but stopped upon seeing him. Ed reacted on instinct and before realizing what he was doing, he had already raised his curled up fist and punched the man square in the face. Miller flew backwards and hit his head on the opposing wall, falling onto the ground, blissfully unconscious. For a second Edward just stood there, flabbergasted by his own actions, but stepped out of the elevator just as the doors began closing again.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered as he walked past the stunned man. Somewhere deep down he knew he wasn’t sorry at all. He crunched his fingerbones and looked around cautiously. There had to be some guards in there, right? He didn’t have to question that for long, because as he got into the main lobby, he found two men laying on the floor on their stomachs. Both of their jackets said _SECURITY_ on the back. In the shadows loomed a familiar man, only luminated by his own flashlight.

“Three past eleven”, Oswald said with a grin. Ed realized it was an obvious nod to his obnoxious behaviour in the lobby a few days ago. He gave Oswald a smile and rubbed his bruised knuckles that were now hurting from the punch.

“My apologies for having kept you waiting. It seemed like you had fun, though”, Ed nodded at the guards and Oswald laughed quietly. They both seemed to have the same idea as they began walking towards the exit; they really didn’t need to stay inside, just waiting for someone to find them. Oswald had parked right outside the main entrance again, and graciously opened Edward the passenger’s door. The taller man climbed in with a cheeky smile on his face and Oswald slammed the door closed. Edward took the backpack off his back and threw it on the backseat as Oswald climbed in and started the engine.

“So, you never really told me exactly where you’re taking me”, Ed stated as he took off his baseball cap and leaned against the comfy car seat. Oswald handed him the flashlight and took a hold of the wheel.

“I’m taking you where you found me, all those years ago”, Oswald turned the car around and started to leave the yard. “Into the woods.”

“Oh. A little forest adventure in the middle of the night?”

“Are you scared of the dark, Eddie?” Oswald teased and gave him a look.

“I don’t want to be murdered in the woods”, Ed specified with a smile on his lips.

“Who would murder you? Me?” Oswald laughed. Ed just smiled and turned on the radio. It’s not like there were any news reports happening past 11pm, but he tuned into a channel that played music all throughout the night for late drivers. “No, seriously. I’d never hurt you”, Oswald kept talking over the music. The following silence was slightly less awkward than it could have been, thanks to the music.

“I know”, Ed finally said and smiled reassuringly. Oswald looked at him for a moment before turning to look at the road again. The rest of the way they stayed silent apart from the minor small talk and Oswald’s inconsistent humming if he recognized a song from the radio. There was the usual amount of traffic for a Thursday night, but the traffic lights were in their favour and they got to the edge of the forest faster than anticipated. Once there, Oswald took the key out of the keyhole and pocketed it, turning to look at Ed.

“We can turn back if you want to”, he assured as he observed the younger man. Edward’s face was a puzzle, far too complicated for Oswald to solve, but one thing he did know was that Ed looked uncertain. The brunette turned to him, eyes widened.

“No way, we are this far already”, he said and furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing the flashlight he had placed into the glove box. Oswald nodded with a half-smile and got out of the car. He walked around it on Ed’s side and waited, but the man didn’t come out. Slightly irritated now, he grabbed the door and opened it with a face full of questions. “You want me to open the door for you, Primadonna?”

“Sorry, sorry. Just… thinking”, Ed muttered as he exited the car. Oswald slammed the door shut and after hesitating a little, took Edward’s hand into his own. He didn’t know why he felt so shy around the man all of sudden – they had done much further than holding hands only a couple days ago. They began walking into the woods, and Oswald honestly wasn’t sure if they’d ever find the exact spot they had met.

“This actually wasn’t the first time we met”, he opened a conversation. Truth be told, the silent and dark forest made him slightly nervous, and he was squeezing Ed’s hand harder than probably was considered normal hand holding. Ed was the one holding their only flashlight, so it was good to stay closer to the tall man. The last thing Oswald wanted was to get lost.

“Oh?”

“The first time I met you was back at the GCPD. I was looking for Jim, and you kept watching me. It was creepy as hell if I’m honest”, he cracked a small laugh and tried to see Ed’s face in the dark. Ed seemed concentrated.

“Keep going”, he insisted.

“You kept following me around the precinct and finally stood next to me. I asked if I could help you and you said-“

“I don’t know, can you?” Ed interrupted and stopped walking so suddenly that Oswald accidentally yanked his hand. Oswald looked slightly shocked, but it was nothing compared to Ed’s face.

“Oh my god I remember that”, he said quietly, staring forward. “I- I remember how you walked in and I felt the need to talk to you.” He looked at Oswald with a condescending smile. “You were rude as hell, Mr. Penguin.”

Oswald couldn’t help but laugh and grab Edward, pulling him into a soft hug. His heart was aching, he felt so happy that at least the tiniest bit of him was still stored inside Edward’s memory. Ed responded to the embrace with one arm, one still holding the flashlight upright.

“You asked me if you knew me and I introduced myself...”, Edward muttered against Oswald’s forehead. “And- and I said I knew who you are. And you said something like ‘in that case you know you’re too close’... It’s all coming back now.”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that”, Oswald said, releasing Ed from the hug but still holding onto his arm endearingly. “And if it means anything, I don’t think you’re too close at all. Right now.” Edward grinned at him.

“I still don’t remember what I actually wanted from you, though.”

“Maybe you just wanted to be annoying”, Oswald suggested and smiled teasingly. “You’re good at that.”

“Thank you”, Ed smiled wholeheartedly and turned around, still chuckling a little. And then he suddenly disappeared from Oswald’s sight with a loud thump. Oswald jumped and looked at where Ed had stood, only to realize the man was laying on the ground, having stepped into a big hole on the ground. It wasn’t necessarily a deep one, but the sudden change in altitude had caused him to trip face first into the grass.

“Great”, Ed muttered as he got a hold of his flashlight again. He pointed it at Oswald who was still staring at him, dumbfounded.

“How’d you manage that?” he asked and couldn’t help but snort. Ed looked absolutely idiotic, on his knees in the couple feet tall hole on the ground. Oswald cackled and raised his hand to help Edward out of the trouble.

“Ask this hole”, Ed huffed and took Oswald’s hand. He pushed himself up from the ground and brushed the biggest mud off his pants. He pointed the light towards the hole, still irritated. “Who the hell just goes to a forest and digs a-“ He stopped before the whole sentence had made its way out and stared. Oswald furrowed his brows and focused on the hole as well. And then the realization hit him. It wasn’t any old hole randomly dug on the ground.

“Is that a-“

“A grave”, Edward finished for him and crouched on the edge of the hole. He palpated the ground. “Easy ground to dig, very soft. Looks like it’s been moved around a lot, maybe dug, filled, and dug open again.” His forensic side was starting to get a hold. He had missed a good murder scene mystery.

“I recognize this place”, Oswald realized as he peered around the area as well as he could. “This is the place. This- this is Kristen Kringle’s grave.” Edward’s hand stopped caressing the wet ground and he froze for a second. It was impossible to see the expression on his face in the dark.

“Well that’s an interesting development”, he finally stated and stood up straight.

“I stole your food right... there”, Oswald pointed at the nearby tree. Even though he had been weak and an absolute mess at that point, he remembered the scene well. The hole in the ground, the picnic blanket placed on the ground with a basket, plates, some wine, the tree of which he had held onto for support. He had stolen something to snack on and disappeared before he could be seen. He vaguely remembered the man half-heartedly tossed over the hole. He hadn’t cared. “It was a good fucking sandwich”, he admitted and chuckled a bit.

“At least now we know we’re on the right path”, Ed said. His monotone, almost bored voice surprised Oswald.

“Do you feel nothing looking at this? Do you not remember anything?”

“I remember the events but not the feelings that came with them. I have no idea what I was thinking when...”, Edward’s voice trailed off and he pinched his mouth shut, looking slightly frustrated. “I do remember sitting there, though”, he pointed the light towards the tree, “with some wine. Food. A shovel, I think I broke it when I hit an intruder across the head.”

“I went that way”, Oswald said and gestured forward. “It was a long walk, though. Or maybe I was just slow.”

“No, I remember it too now”, Ed scratched his head with a concentrated look. “I followed a trail of your blood.”

With a silent decision, they abandoned the grave and begun their journey towards their end goal. Oswald didn’t dare speak to the man – Ed looked like his head was about to burst from thinking so hard. He was silent and concentrating, eyebrows nearly touching from the pinching of the muscles. He walked a bit faster than Oswald, so he was the one leading them. Oswald was secretly glad, because he didn’t actually have anything but a vague memory to go off by. Then again, neither did Edward.

Finally, after what felt like ages, they found what they were looking for. Oswald was surprised no one had gone looking for their camper in the five or so years it had stayed in the forest, but he was glad. The camper turned out to be in the exact condition he had left it all those years ago; a trail of blood continued in the interior, dragging across a table and onto a small bed at the very back of the space. It had turned black and cakey. It was a positive surprise to find out the light inside the camper still worked. He raided the whole area and found nothing useful except for a second flashlight.

“Feel anything?” he asked as he limped out of the camper. Ed was staring at the thing from a short distance, still pointing his flashlight forward. He had a hand on his hip, and he looked thoughtful.

“No”, he mumbled and let out a deep sigh. “Frustrating. I dragged us here for nothing. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t for nothing”, Oswald assured and clicked on his light as well. “I got to spend time with you. You recognized the place – your memory is coming back piece by piece. Is that not what you wanted anyway?”

“He looked so pathetically adorable on his knees on that ground, pleading for our help. I remember that.”

Ed literally jumped off the ground and spun around so fast he almost fell over. He pointed the light into the direction of the voice and almost had an aneurysm. “NO!”

“Hi”, his other half raised his hand in a peace sign and grinned.

“Ed?” he heard Oswald’s concerned voice behind him but couldn’t do anything apart from concentrating on the figment of imagination. The hallucination leaned onto the nearest tree and crossed his arms lazily.

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Edward sounded each syllable as clearly as he could, gritting his teeth.

“How many times do we have to go through this? I am you. You are me. We are one. I can’t just, y’know, leave.” Ed hated that stupid, condescending smirk. He hated that his own face was able to look that annoying. He hated everything about that idiot. He shuddered a bit as he felt Oswald’s hand on his shoulder. The raven-haired man forced him to look at one another.

“There’s no one there, Ed”, Oswald said cautiously and flashed a light towards the spot Ed had been staring at.

“Well, to be fair. He isn’t wrong”, came to voice from the opposite direction. Ed turned around and stared at the man who lazily took a seat on the camper’s doorway. The other Ed Nygma crossed his legs and smiled. Edward broke loose of Oswald’s grip and walked towards the camper.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t _want_ your help. Get the hell out of my head.”

“Wrong, again! You would absolutely be dead or jailed if I wasn’t here.”

“If you weren’t here, Ms. Kringle would still be alive!” Ed roared and tightened his grip of the flashlight. His other side rolled his eyes dramatically, which was easy to see thanks to the fact he wasn’t wearing glasses and snorted.

“Oh GOD, are you still mad at me for that? It’s been five years, buddy. Get over your girl crush.”

“Ed, is he here?” Edward turned around and looked as Oswald who was looking both confused yet sort of excited. His gaze of his green eyes was tense, but he had a small smile on his lips.

“ _I’m always here._ ” “He’s here”, Ed gulped.

“Let me talk to him”, Oswald said, and Ed felt dumbfounded all of sudden.

“And... h-how exactly are you expecting me to do that?” he asked and flinched a bit as he saw from the corner of his eyes as the hallucination teleport directly on his side. Oswald huffed and smiled.

“Let him take control, Edward”, he said. He made it sound so simple that Ed nearly burst out laughing.

“No... NO, I can’t do that?!” his voice trembled, and he had the most complicated of expressions on his face. He was fairly certain that he had a nerve-wrecking smile on his face, but he also felt like he was about to burst into tears at any minute. “I don’t know what he’ll do if...”, his breath hitched. His voice was getting higher by every syllable.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to let go, though?” the delusion asked, right into his ear. Ed felt a sudden wave of fatigue. He was sure he was going to faint at any moment. “Wouldn’t you like to remember every single thing? Remember how you felt when you killed her? When you found her body inside the M.E. the next day?” The headache that had been progressively been stinging at the back of his skull became all too apparent all of sudden. While the only source of light was the pair of flashlights surrounding them, he had to close his eyes to rest.

“I believe in you, Ed. Always have and always will.” When had Oswald gotten so close? His voice was a mere few inches away from his face. Ed opened his eyes, but the scene was blurry.

“This is who you are”, the hallucination spoke straight into his ear. Everything around his was groggy, and even the man himself looked slightly distorted. Like everything was behind a wet window. The other Edward’s movement were not in sync, barely intelligible  “ _Who we are.”_ The headache blinded him, and everything twirled into black.

The next thing he sensed was a slap to his face. He opened his eyes groggily, acutely aware he wasn’t wearing glasses, and tried to look around. They were still in the forest, that much was clear. It didn’t seem like he had been unconscious for long, because his head was still hurting a bit and his breathing was slightly unstable.

“You really just want me to die of a stroke, don’t you?” Oswald asked as he brushed his hand through Edward’s curls. He didn’t look as worried as he could have been, but it was clear even for Ed that he had gotten startled. “You started twitching and just collapsed. Maybe two minutes ago?” Edward was glad he didn’t have to ask in order to gain an answer. He felt something on his face and realized that Oswald had gently placed his glasses on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked wearily and helped prop Edward against the wall of the camper. He was quiet for a good while, just staring dead ahead and breathing. He felt... different. He felt extremely different, in fact.

“Beautiful”, he eventually got out.

“Huh?” Oswald didn’t even try to hide the idiotic sound he had just uttered.

“It felt beautiful. Thrilling. A rush of... something. When I killed her. Kristen.”

“O-kay? Not what I asked”, Oswald said and raised an eyebrow. Ed finally turned to look at him like he had just seen him for the first time.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk to me? We’re talking. It’s happening. Are you satisfied?”

“Wait”, Oswald raised a hand and with a lack of anything better to do, placed it on Edward’s shoulder. “Wait a minute. You- you’re, uh, him? Ed two point o?”

“You could say that, Mr. Penguin. I feel reborn”, Ed said with a thoughtful expression on his face again. Oswald was suddenly filled with a whole truckload of emotions. At first he looked startled, then it turned into surprised, then into genuine joy. He clasped onto Edward’s shoulders with both hands, dropping the flashlight to the ground.

“I can’t believe it”, he said quietly, eyes glimmering with glee. “It really is you, Ed.”

“I have been me the whole time. Just took a moment to remind myself”, he smiled sheepishly and gently put his hand around one of Oswald’s wrists. “It’s all coming back to me. All the emotions, the feelings...”

“What’s your current latest memory?” Oswald asked, suddenly looking alerted.

“Uhh. Carrying you princess style out of the forest and into my car”, Ed rubbed his forehead with a small smirk. Oswald hit him gently on the chest.

“Never mention me and “princess style” in a same sentence again.” They looked at one another before Ed broke into laughter. It wasn’t like the laughs Oswald had grown accustomed to in the past couple of weeks. It was a wide, blindingly white grin which evolved into a loud cackle. He couldn’t help but join in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter turned out VERY long and idk if that's a good or a bad thing lmao. enjoy it!


	10. even though you got good intentions

The Van Dahl mansion had been left in pretty crude condition by Oswald during the past couple of months. He had been planning on hiring some more staff but never got around to it. With the licensing system in action and Mr. Penn taking care of all the accounting, he hadn’t worried about that front too much, and Olga was sufficient enough as a housekeeper despite their language barrier. Well, that had been a facade and he knew about it now, but he had let her keep her job because he couldn’t find anyone else on the spot. Sofia Falcone had deranged his way of logical thinking and within the weeks of their questionable relationship he had barely spent time at his home. Now it was filled with empty bottles of alcohol from the weeks of drinking that had occurred while Ed was having his long nap.

“This is a mess”, Oswald sighed as he tried clearing the dinner table enough to actually eat on it. Edward was standing on the opposite side of the table, tapping on his chin thoughtfully. He hummed a concerted “mm-hmm”. They had stayed in there for two days already, and surprisingly no one had gone after them after their little heist to get out of the hospital. Edward walked out of the dining room, disappearing into a smaller area nearby. He had declared it as his “research space”, and the walls were already covered in newspaper articles and photographs, some of which had been connected with red thread. On one of the walls there was a huge poster with Oswald’s face on it, and the words _‘MAKE GOTHAM GREAT AGAIN’_.

Oswald followed Ed into the room and corked a bottle. He grabbed a glass from the nearest table and poured himself a shot. “What’s your conclusion after creating this monstrosity?” he asked and gestured the messy wall with his glass.

“You were running for mayor.”

“Wow, amazing detective work, Edward”, Oswald mocked and sat on an armchair. Ed looked very cute with his unbuttoned vest, loosened tie and curly strands of hair falling over his concentrated face. Oswald enjoyed the view and took a sip of the liquor. It burned pleasingly as it slid down his throat.

“This is a work in progress”, Ed sighed and grabbed a red marker. “I’m taking things one step at a time. No need to rush.”

“You look dishevelled. Take a break”, Oswald suggested, twirling his glass around.

“We both know what happened the last time I ‘took a break’”, Edward responded with a small grin. “If I didn’t know better, I would call you horny.” Oswald choked on the booze and put the glass down on the side table. He got up and limped up to Edward.

“Don’t toot your own horn, Ed”, he said and grabbed the man by his chin. “You’ve become increasingly cheeky ever since your other half took control of your body.”

“Guilty”, Edward admitted and slid his arms on Oswald’s waist. It was quickly becoming his favourite place to hold onto, and it didn’t seem like Cobblepot minded either, although his face was getting a tint of pink. “At least I’m not a staggering, timid nerd anymore.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll always be a dork to me”, Oswald teased despite the obvious blush on his face. He could blame it on the booze even though both of them knew that had nothing to do with it. Edward answered in the form of a kiss, leaning down and pressing his lips against the shorter man’s. Oswald gave a muffled protest but was quick to melt into Ed’s touch as they wrapped around one another more desperately. Oswald noticed a very obvious hard-on rubbing against his hip when Ed pushed his lower body against Oswald’s.

“Who’s horny now?” he was out of breath from the intense kiss and his speech stuttered a little. “Just from a bit of kissing you’re already like a rock...” His mind was already wandering. He just wanted to rip the clothes off that tall, lean body and make Ed squirm. Unfortunately for them, a loud banging noise from downstairs interrupted their moment. It sounded like someone was attempting to break through the door, and not very kindly at that.

“God fucking damn it”, Oswald spat and distanced himself from Edward with a frustrated huff. Ed looked completely out of it at that point, but when he realized he wasn’t getting the awaited pleasure, his face fell, and he angrily stomped into the opposite end of the room. Oswald gave one last look at the man before he limped out of the room and down the stairs. Just as he arrived into the entrance hall, the door gave in and slammed open, revealing his unwelcomed guests.

“Jim, what a surprise!” Oswald shouted maliciously and grabbed a pistol from his back pocket as soon as he noticed Gordon armed. Right behind the blonde man there was Bullock, also pointing a gun at him. “I do have a doorbell, you know”, Oswald stepped down from the stairs and cautiously approached the two men, still pointing the gun at them.

“Put your weapon down, Penguin”, Jim instructed, also taking a step forward.

“I think I have every right to protect myself against illegal intruders”, he maintained eye contact, getting increasingly frustrated by the second.

“Actually”, Bullock interrupted and pulled out a paper from his pocket, “we got a search warrant. So step aside.”

“May I ask why?” Oswald changed his tragedy, sounding more defensive than was probably good.

“We both know Nygma’s here. We’re meant to take him back to the hospital, or if he doesn’t comply, into custody”, Jim lowered his gun a little. “I didn’t come here to fight, Oswald. We both know Ed needs help.”

“And what makes you think I can’t provide him with said help?” Oswald was eager to ask.

“Jim, we ain’t gonna get anywhere like this”, Harvey sighed and stepped into the house. He walked over to Oswald, gun still pointed at him, and just walked past him like he was a statue. Oswald wasn’t sure why he didn’t just shoot the guy. He felt something building up inside of himself. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, though. Jim put his gun into the holster and walked up to him while Bullock began climbing the stairs.

“Oswald, I know Ed is your friend. And if you really want the best for him, you’ll let us take him.”

“Since when have you been the voice of reason, Jim?” Oswald scoffed and also pocketed his gun. “You don’t know anything about Edward and I’s relationship. Don’t pretend that you do. You barely even know anything about friendship – I mean, what kind of friend does this?”

“We’re not friends, Oswald. Never have been. Just acquaintances.” Something in Gordon’s words stung Oswald. Just for a second, but he could feel it.

“We don’t have the best relationship; I won’t deny that. But I have been there, constantly,  whenever you’ve needed the help. I think I deserve some gratitude”, he said. He hated how his voice cracked slightly in the middle of this important moment.

“What a touching speech. I could cry”, Jim mocked. His next sentence was interrupted by the two men walking downstairs. Harvey was holding tight onto Ed who Oswald assumed had been handcuffed, based on the position of his hands behind his back. His eyes widened and he looked at Bullock with the most confused expression.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“The bastard tried to stab me!” Bullock groaned, not even looking at Oswald but instead directing his gaze at Gordon. “He’s goin’ straight behind bars, fuck the hospital.”

“Wait- what?” Oswald grabbed Jim by the arm and forced him to maintain eye contact. “This isn’t right?!”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you ask your buddy, Eddie, then?” Harvey said and smiled sarcastically. Edward himself had been completely silent throughout this entire encounter, and he looked way too calm for a situation like this. Oswald stared at him, desperately trying to find answers.

“He’s telling the truth, Oswald”, Ed finally said and gained a gasp from the shorter man. “But, to be fair, I had no idea it was him. I just heard footsteps behind me and threw the first thing I could grab at the intruder.”

“That could have been ME!” Oswald screamed, looking like his eyes might pop out of his head.

“No, I recognize your waddle”, Ed smiled and looked at the two policemen. “Weren’t my actions just self-defence?”

“I don’t know”, Jim said. He sounded tired and looked even more so. Oswald still kept shooting unbelieving glances at all three men in the room. Harvey seemed to have made the decision for Jim, because he tightened his grip of Nygma and began dragging him out of the house.

“You can’t do this!” Oswald screeched and hurried after them, blocking the doorway.

“Speak to the badge, buddy”, Bullock pushed Edward aggressively towards the door, forcing his way through Oswald’s protests. Oswald did the only logical thing he could think of, which was grabbing his gun again and pointing it at the bearded man.

“Let go of Ed. Right. Now. Or I swear this gun will be sideways up your anus in thirty seconds!” his body was trembling more and more with every word, spit flying out of his mouth in the fit of rage.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Oswald”, he heard a voice from behind him and glanced around just to see Jim raising his gun to point at him. Oswald weighed his options for a second before lowering his gun but didn’t put it out of sight.

“You can’t do this”, he repeated and turned properly to Jim while Harvey started dragging Edward towards the police car. Jim’s expression was painful. He didn’t look like he wanted this to happen, but both of the men knew Jim’s reputation as Captain would take a hit if he didn’t do this.

“We’re not sending him to Arkham or anything”, Jim sighed and put his gun back into the holster. He glanced at Bullock who had gotten Ed inside the vehicle with little to no fighting and furrowed his eyebrows a little. “Why is he so calm?”

“Like hell I know?” Oswald both sounded and looked pissed off.

“Should we take Pengu too while we’re at it?” Harvey shouted over to Jim. Jim looked at Oswald whose mouth had frozen open. He didn’t have time to properly argue before he already felt cold steel clicking around his wrist.

“At WHAT grounds?!” he spat when Jim started pulling him towards the car. “You’re making a grand mistake, Jim!” There was no use putting up a fight against Gordon, and only after a bit of wrestling Oswald found himself from the backseat next to Edward. Jim slammed the door shut and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“This is NOT RIGHT! If I can get arrested then shouldn’t you be cracking down on your girlfriend, too? She turned Sofia Falcone into a vegetable right in front of you!” Oswald raged and wriggled in his handcuffs, only to end up tightening them further. Jim’s hand had frozen on the key, not turning it. He seemed to be thinking. Ed sighed deep and loud, banging his head into the window.

“Can we move? This is uncomfortable”, he suggested and eyed Gordon through the mirror.

“Why are you okay with this?” Oswald turned his frustration towards Ed who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Edward side-eyed him but didn’t respond. Oswald groaned as Jim started the car and sped out onto the road.

“Remember my words, Jim, you’ll regret this”, Cobblepot muttered and tried to adjust himself on the seat so his hands would hurt less. This was oddly reminiscent of the time he had handcuffed Ed and thrown him into the backseat of an identical cop car. Suddenly he hated that memory.

The rest of the way to the police station went by in relative silence. Oswald kept throwing offended glances at Jim through the mirror, but as he didn’t get a reaction out of the man, he had moved onto side-eyeing Edward instead. Oswald tried so hard to figure out what the brunette was thinking, and it was giving him a headache. He had no idea what Nygma’s endgame was, but it didn’t look very promising at the moment. Ed, on the other hand, didn’t look worried. He was looking out of the window with a bored expression, not facing Oswald. Jim parked at the front of GCPD and got out of the car at the same time with Harvey.

“You’ll stay in custody until I decide what to do with you”, Jim said as he pulled Oswald out of the car and made him hit his head against the car roof in the process. “Same thing with Nygma”, he instructed Bullock who was already walking up the stairs with Ed, still cool as a cucumber.

Oswald was surprised to find the house nearly empty. There were only a few cops around the department – way less people than he was used to. “Budget cuts?” he snarled at Jim as they walked towards the cells. Ed was already getting his hands freed and pushed behind the bars.

“After Jerome, it’s been our job to secure the streets”, Jim opened Oswald’s handcuffs and shoved the shorter man into the cell.

“Is he actually dead?” Oswald immediately grabbed the bars and stared at Jim. He had been following the news as much as possible ever since Ed had woken up, and it seemed like Valeska had been causing a lot of trouble to the GCPD.

“It would seem so, but then again he was dead once before.”

“Death seems to be just a momentary thing nowadays”, Oswald sighed and looked over at Ed who had taken a seat on the bench and was polishing his glasses. Jim looked like he was going to leave but glanced over his shoulder before stepping closer instead.

“You’ll stay here overnight. We will call Nygma’s doctor and he’ll go straight back into the hospital. You will _not_ be allowed anywhere near him until his memory returns. Got it?” Jim’s voice was merely a hoarse whisper, like he was afraid someone might overhear him. Oswald furrowed his brows and pressed his forehead against the bars.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Jim gave him a warning look before stepping back and leaving with a huff. Oswald glared after him for a moment before finally turning properly to Ed. He was both confused and angry, which was never a good combination when it came to his temper.

“What the HELL were you thinking?” he snapped and stepped right in front of Ed, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face him. It was a real struggle to keep his voice contained. Ed sighed and looked at him with an unamused expression, placing his glasses back in place.

“I have a plan”, he said and stood up. He grabbed Oswald’s wrist and wringed his hand off his face. “One of which you’re really close to ruining.”

“Wha-?” Oswald couldn’t even finish the sentence before flushing pink. Ed had brought his hand up to his chest and begun roaming around the inside of his jacket. After a bit of searching, his face lit up and he pulled a brooch out.

“I had a feeling you’d have one of these”, Ed shrugged like he hadn’t just publicly groped the other and walked up to the cell door.

“You could’ve just _asked_ ”, Oswald muttered and tilted his head. “Are you really going to pick the lock in plain sight, with a dozen police officers around you?” Ed didn’t look too worried. He was glancing around the precinct until he smiled to himself, having found something.

“Harvey is a moron. He didn’t search me before cuffing”, Ed said quietly and pulled something out of his front pocket. It only took a second for Oswald to realize that it was a smoke grenade. A small one, but probably sizely enough to cause a scene. He didn’t even bother asking where Edward had found such a thing or why he was casually carrying one around, because he knew he would never get an answer. Ed was already about to rip off the cotter, but Oswald grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Would you maybe like to tell me what this plan of yours is before jumping into action?” he whispered, irritated.

“When the grenade goes off and I get the door opened, you run straight into the archive room”, Ed adjusted his glasses and grinned.

“What?” Oswald said loud enough for one of the passing police officers to glance into their direction. “Why?”

Edward seemed so set on the genius plan of his that he didn’t bother explaining. “Just do as I say”, he ended the conversation and returned to stand on the door. He looked around to make sure no one was observing them, nodded to himself and ripped the cotter off. Oswald followed in slow motion how Ed threw the grenade between the bars, successfully landing it in the middle of the room where it immediately started spewing out thick, white smoke. He was surprised how much power such a small thing entailed, but his awe was quickly interrupted by Ed swinging the door open. It had only taken him a few second to pick the lock and he was already exiting their untimely prison.

Oswald did as he had been instructed and navigated his way into the archive room. He still had absolutely no idea what Edward’s plan was, but so far it had been successful, and he decided to not wait around for a plan B. It took him longer than was necessary to get through the door, because he wasn’t that familiar with the blueprints of the police department and the smoke was disorienting his judgement – not to mention the shouting all around him as the officers tried to figure out what the hell was happening.

Just as he had gotten through the archive room door, it slammed open again and Ed hurried through, quickly closing and locking it behind him. “Would you _please_ tell me what you’re doing?” Oswald pleaded, still trying to catch his breath. Ed didn’t respond, walking across the room to make sure they were alone.

“What’s the easiest place to hide in?”

“What?” Oswald uttered. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“In plain sight”, Edward answered his own question and squatted on the floor in front of one of the document drawers. He was looking for something. “If someone escapes from prison, the most logical thing to assume is that the person would try to get as far away from said prison as possible. Which works in our favor. No one will be looking for us here.”

“I appreciate the thought, but we really should get the hell out of here”, Oswald was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

“The smoke should stay in place for ten minutes or so. We have plenty of time before they even notice we’re missing”, Ed opened a drawer and started skimming through it. “Why have they reorganized this again? My way was better... Dumbasses...”

“What are you looking for?” Oswald limped up to the brunette and crossed his arms, pissed off for not getting coherent answers. “Answer or I will punch you, Edward.”

Ed sighed and looked up at the shorter man. “I knew there was no way either of us could successfully sneak in here in broad daylight. If I had arrived here with no reason, they would have sent me right back to Gotham Central. If you had arrived, you’d been apprehended and sent back where you came from, or in worst case, jail. So I needed a reason for us to be stuck here for the time being.”

“So that is why you threw a knife at Bullock?” Oswald was trying his best to stay on board, but over the years he had become very familiar with the fact that no one could actually follow Ed Nygma’s thought process to a T.

“It worked, didn’t it? We’re here.”

“But why did you need to come here in the first place?”

“For this”, Ed raised so suddenly it startled Oswald and raised a file. It was thick, way thicker than Tom Dougherty’s had been. Oswald took it from Edward’s hands and flipped it around. His eyes widened when he read the name tag; _Edward Nygma_.

“Oh”, Oswald said and looked up to the brunette. His heart had skipped probably about ten beats just from the realization.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this”, Ed said and took the file back, squeezing it against his chest. “I’m getting to the bottom of Ed Nygma.”


	11. i'm begging you for mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER; this chapter is gonna be full of NSFW/smut, so if you're not a fan, feel free to skip! i made sure to not move on with the plot a whole lot in this one for that reason. :") check out the added tags for more detail!
> 
> i'm really sorry for taking a while with the update; all the other chapters had been written prematurely and queued for posting, and i got busier than i thought i would so it took a moment before i could squeeze this out. i hope the content makes up for it ;)

With everything that had happened recently, Oswald hadn’t really had any time to sit down and properly deal with his thoughts and emotions for a good while. They were all just kind of flying around his head, screaming for attention, eating each other up, drowning in white noise. But now, with Edward completely invested in his own project and barely even interacting with Oswald, he had nothing better to do. They had successfully escaped from the GCPD with Ed’s record and taken course to one of Oswald’s safehouses. There was no way they would be secured in the Van Dahl mansion, not with Jim Gordon and the whole police department breathing into their necks.

They had chosen a small cottage away from the city life of Gotham, away from all the noise and people and problems. It wasn’t the most glorious of places to live, but it was the safest option. While Edward had shut himself into the guest bedroom with his papers and news articles and TV recordings, Oswald had to occupy himself with a bottle of booze and the small television in the lounge area. Gotham was still a mess from what the news reporters told him, with crime increasing day by day. Jerome was very dead, much like Jim had said, and since Oswald was not in town to take care of the crime licensing system anymore, everyone was out of their minds with robberies and muggings. Truth be told, Oswald didn’t really care. He was much more concerned with the brunette upstairs. They had already stayed in the cottage for two days and he had only seen Ed once when he came to grab something to eat before swiftly returning to his room. It was eating him up inside.

Oswald hadn’t gotten a good look on Edward’s file, so he had no clue what would be inside of it. He guessed all the crimes Ed had been found guilty of were listed in there, but to what detail? Had Ed already finished reading? Did he know everything and was staying quiet while planning on a good way to kill his partner? Surely it wouldn’t take that long until the questions would begin flowing in...

Edward surprised him in the evening when he was finishing his dinner. The man arrived downstairs looking more dishevelled than normal, wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama pants – slightly too short for him since they were probably Oswald’s – and a sweater, glasses dangling from the tip of his nose dangerously close to slipping off, and hair looking more like a mohawk than anything else. He sat down at the dinner table without saying a word and slammed his face against the wood with a loud bang.

“Good to see you’re alive”, Oswald said and swiped his mouth with a serviette.

“I’m a dumb whore”, came an answer, muffled against the table top. Oswald raised his eyebrows slightly and slid the pot of soup closer to Edward on the table. Ed raised his head just enough to look at the food. “No thank you.”

“So you only came downstairs to announce that you’re a dumb whore? Okay then”, Oswald chuckled and stood up from the table with his plate in hand. He moved into the kitchen, beginning to wash the dishes.

“Actually, I did have a reason”, he heard from the dinner table and glanced over his shoulder at Ed, who was heavily leaning against his elbows and looking at Oswald over the bar kitchen. Oswald looked at the man more properly and tilted his head. The glasses had finally given up and fallen onto the table and Ed’s eyes were hazy and big. His cheeks were rosy, and he looked completely out of it.

“Are you drunk?” Oswald asked after Ed didn’t continue his sentence.

“Tipsy”, Edward admitted and rubbed his eyes. “Do you have any more wine?”

“You got drunk off _wine_?” Oswald laughed with a mocking tone and placed his plate on the drying rack. He limped back into the dinner room and looked at Nygma pitifully. He did, in fact, have more alcohol, but he didn’t think it would be an excellent idea to give any of it to the brunette. He already looked like he could fall off the chair or vomit at any chance given. Still, he felt bad for the other, so he did reach for the nearest bottle and corked it. The sound seemed to perk Edward’s interest.

“I’m going to make an assumption and say that your plan isn’t going quite as you had anticipated?” Oswald asked and poured Ed a glass. He grabbed it aggressively and emptied it without a breath. It was like he hadn’t had anything to drink for a month.

“I should have guessed that... GCPD is incompetent at taking care of their archives”, Ed gasped for air mid-sentence and held out his glass for another drink. Oswald left the bottle on the table and went to sit on the sofa instead; he was nobody’s bartender, especially not Ed’s. “They only have the information up until to some goddamn museum heist I did. Why did I rob a painting anyway?”

“Can’t help you there. I’m pretty sure I was either in Arkham or just been released when you went off the rails completely”, Oswald found all of this incredibly amusing and heart-wrenching at the same time. Ed had stood up and walked up to the couch, slightly wobbling. The glasses had been abandoned at the dinner table, but he had remembered to grab the bottle of booze.

“Sometimes my brain confuses myself”, Ed slumped onto the sofa right next to Oswald. Oswald didn’t mind, of course – he felt nice knowing that Ed wanted to sit nearly on his lap even though the couch had more than enough space.

“Welcome to my world”, he snickered and grabbed the bottle from Ed. He took a sloppy sip and felt the liquor drip from the edge of his mouth towards his collared shirt. Edward was faster than him and Oswald nearly choked on the booze when he felt Ed’s tongue on his neck, eagerly licking off the liquid. Oswald swallowed deep and gasped slightly as Ed’s teeth grazed over his sensitive neck; licking was quickly turning into kissing and nibbling.

“E-Edward”, he winced at a harder bite and let out a small moan. His grip slackened and the bottle fell onto the wooden floor. It didn’t break, but the liquor started spilling everywhere. That was the least of Oswald’s worried at the moment, though, because Ed had become much more feral and was already forcing himself on top of Oswald, a hungry look in his eyes. Oswald stared at the brown eyes; the huge pupils filled with lust.

“I’m taking a break now”, Ed sighed impatiently and tugged on Oswald’s shirt. “And Jim Gordon will not be interrupting this time around.”

“Don’t jinx it”, Oswald grinned, but Ed quickly silenced him with a passionate kiss. It was the wildest kiss they had ever had so far, and Oswald enjoyed every single second of it. He stuck his tongue inside Edward’s mouth, played around for a bit before Ed finally moved apart and gasped for breath. Oswald felt his face getting hotter by the second as he also panted for air like a dog in heat.

“You’re hot”, Ed groaned and placed himself on Oswald’s lap, eagerly starting to unbutton the raven-haired man’s shirt. Oswald had suddenly lost the ability to move his body around, so he just stared at the hands dancing on his chest, hurrying to finish the job. Midway down Edward seemed to get impatient because he just ripped the rest of the shirt open, making Oswald let out a small squeak. Ed’s long legs were all too tall for him to comfortably position himself on the sofa without hurting himself or Oswald in the process, but he still somehow managed to slide down and attack Oswald’s chest with the same infuriatingly tingly licks and bites. Oswald gave up on trying to contain his voice and let out a loud moan when Edward’s tongue twirled around his nipples.

“Sensitive, are we?” Ed practically purred and nibbled on the skin. Oswald wanted to say something back but couldn’t get anything coherent out except for a trembling gasp. Ed’s chest was grazing against the front of his pants and he was sure both of them could feel how hard he was beneath the weight.

Somehow, they managed to get rid of most of their clothing items without stopping the make-out session. Oswald came back to Earth only to lose himself again as he stared at Edward straddled on top of him, wearing only a pair of dark green boxers – so reminiscent of the color of his Riddler suit. It gave Oswald chills even though he was otherwise feeling very hot and bothered. Ed placed his hands on Oswald’s shoulders, pressing him against the couch, and looked at him needily.

“So how are we doing this?” he asked and exhaled deeply, making the loose curls bounce around his face.

“Uh”, Oswald uttered brightly, “if you mean like... who’s-“

“Who will take it up their ass, yes”, Edward said. Oswald flushed redder, if that was even possible. He realised he had never seen Ed as drunk as this, so maybe it was the norm for him to have zero filter.

“I have no preference. Oh, and I also don’t have any condoms. Didn’t think they’d be useful in... here.” Edward seemed thoughtful.

“I probably have more stamina and considering your bad leg it might be beneficial for you if I do most of the moving”, he scanned Oswald with his eyes, and Oswald couldn’t help but feel like he was on a doctor’s table getting examined. He truly didn’t mind either way, because truth be told he had never been with anyone intimately. Of course he had explored his needs and wants by himself, but this two-people contact was all a new territory.

“O-okay”, he got out as he realized Ed was waiting eagerly to hear his opinion. That little OK was all it took for the brunette to scramble backwards and aggressively rip into Oswald’s loose-hanging trousers. The shorter man gave a small yelp as Ed exposed his pale legs so nonchalantly. The examining gaze stopped around his bulge before sliding down his legs.

“You’re really pretty”, Edward said as he removed the pants and threw them on the floor. Oswald opened his mouth but genuinely couldn’t find anything to say back at the statement. “And wet”, Ed continued with a smirk and placed a hand on top of the precum-stained underwear.

“Are you the one to talk?” Oswald asked and nudged the hooded front of Edward’s boxers with his foot. Ed bit his lip slightly, but the grin didn’t break.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all, Ozzie”, he whispered and grabbed the man’s dick properly through the fabric. So Ed was a tease, Oswald found himself thinking as he bit his knuckle to hide the pathetic moan creeping up his throat. However, it didn’t seem like Nygma was going to keep this up for long, because after barely half a minute he looked frustrated enough to let go of Oswald.

“Take them off”, he ordered as he stood up enough to remove the one last piece of clothing covering his body. With a single move the green underwear was gone and for the first time Oswald saw Edward in all his glory. Fuck, he thought as he busied himself with removing his own underwear. He had known Ed was handsome and lean and tall, but his cock? Beyond his dreams. “Are you stretchy?”

“What?” Oswald exclaimed and turned back to face Ed despite his heart doing jumping jacks by the gesture.

“Stretchy, are you?” Ed repeated, measuring the skinny legs before him. Oswald couldn’t even respond before he felt Ed’s grip around his left ankle – he was thankful Ed was careful with his bad leg – and squealed when the brunette lifted his leg and stretched it all the way against his stomach. Oswald had never felt so exposed in his life, positively trembling.

“Oh, you are...”, Edward smiled as ran his spare hand across the smooth skin of Oswald’s thigh. “Such a pretty little thing.”

“Can you just get on with it?” Oswald hated how vulnerable and desperate he sounded, but his horniness was probably quite obvious even if it wasn’t vocalized.

“I like the sound of that”, Ed nodded slightly but did no move to actually grant Oswald’s request. The raven-haired man huffed with frustration and arousal, trying to wiggle his body. Be found out very quickly that he was practically immobile beneath Edward’s grip. He should have been offended by such restraint, but instead he found himself getting even wetter if that was physically possible.

“What? Do I have to _beg_?” Oswald shrieked.

Edward’s lips had formed into a sadistic smile. “Yes, actually, you do”, he leaned down, pressing Oswald’s leg down until it was touching the armrest of the couch right next to Oswald’s head, and licked his lips hungrily. “ _Beg_.”

Oswald couldn’t believe this was happening. He stared into the pair of brown eyes, looking more like black than anything else in the dim lighting of the lounge room, expecting Ed to burst into laughter and say he was joking. Turns out, the man was being completely serious. It didn’t seem like they were going to get anywhere unless Oswald lost a piece of his dignity. At least, whatever was left of it.

“Please get on with it”, he tried, gaze automatically averting from Edward’s eyes. God, his body felt like it was about to burst into flames.

“Get on with what, Oswald?” Edward’s words were merely a hot breath into Oswald’s ear.

“Damn you”, Oswald whined more to himself than Ed. He felt the other’s dick slightly grazing his inner thigh. Fuck. “Please...”

“Please, what?” Ed licked his earlobe, slowly pressing wet kisses around the side of his neck. With one hand still grabbing his ankle, the other slid against Oswald’s neck. He pressed a bit harder than he had the intention of and Oswald let out a slight choking sound.

“Please”, he sputtered, coughing from the sudden choke. He tried to find Ed’s eyes, and Ed did move a bit away from his neck so they could stare at one another. Oswald’s sigh was shaky. He felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. “Please fuck me”, he whimpered, feeling the hand on his throat spasm before tightening. “Fuck me, please. God, Ed...”

“Of course”, the brunette whispered before giving a lopsided kiss and moving his hand from Oswald’s ankle towards his own dick. It seemed like he was growing tired of his own game, because the teasing didn’t last. Oswald couldn’t contain his voice when Ed pressed against him without any further foreplay or warning. He straight up screamed as he was penetrated by the huge shaft, and he wasn’t sure if he was shouting more from pain or pleasure.

Edward was a merciless lover. He quickly picked up a pace far too aggressive for Oswald to get used to. He truly felt like he was going to faint, black and white dots jittering around his vision every time Ed rammed inside him with the power of a thousand gods. Ten inches of pure lust and built up sexual frustration – Oswald fucking loved every bit.

“O-oh God...”, Oswald wasn’t sure if any of his words were even intelligible. He wrapped his arms around Edward’s shoulders, clasping on like his life depended on it, already feeling tears falling down his face. Ed was panting right by his ear, letting out ethereal grunts and whines that were driving Oswald insane by the second. “Ed, I-I think-“

“God, fuck, you’re so tight”, Ed groaned and slipped his arm around Oswald’s bed leg. Even in all the lust and heat he was careful not to touch the man’s ankle as he stretched the other leg against the armrest. In any other situation Oswald would have been surprised at his unexpected gymnastic abilities, but now he could do nothing but whimper nonsense as Edward had even more leverage on him in this position. In less than a minute following he let out a violently loud shriek, going falsetto as he came all over his stomach.

“Ed, Ed...” It was like a mantra to him. Nygma choked him again and forced them to face one another in the messy position they were in. “Oooh fuck, God, s-stop please...”, Oswald blabbered, drool dripping out of his mouth.

“I- I’m dying...” He could already feel the second orgasm building up in his stomach. Edward gave a devilish grin and licked the spit off his face.

“Such... a slut you are”, he moaned. Oswald thought he was going to end up with asphyxia; his head was spinning from the pain and the pleasure and the lack of oxygen in his brain, his throat was burning but also going numb at the same time.

“P-please, Ed, please”, he didn’t even know what he was begging for. He sure as hell didn’t actually want it to end, that was for certain, and he was happy Edward had the upper hand on the situation. Oswald cried out loudly, eyes rolling at the back of his head, as he came for the second time within five minutes without having his dick touched even for a moment. Ed also was at his breaking point and after a few more jaggedly thrusts he came inside Oswald with an incoherent shout. He kept throbbing inside Oswald for a long while as they both were trying to catch their breaths.

After what felt like an eternity Edward finally pulled out, ejecting a small sob from the man underneath him. Oswald looked truly broken, in a good way. He looked like he was in a utopia, just staring at the ceiling with lidded eyes, breathing loudly. Ed reached to grab the pyjama pants from the ground and handed them over to Oswald in order for him to clean himself up.

“That was... something”, Ed gasped as he leaned against the backrest and closed his eyes. Oswald didn’t find the power to respond. Ed glanced at him with half-open eyes and smiled slightly. It seemed like the smaller man was already half-asleep, not making a single move to indicate he was going to get clean or dressed anytime soon.

Edward, as tipsy as he may have been, took it upon himself to take care of Oswald. After cleaning the man up at least somewhat, Ed put on his own underwear and buttoned up Oswald’s shirt with whatever intact buttons there were left. He steadied himself and after the initial spinning in his head went by, he grabbed Oswald and princess carried him upstairs. Ed placed the other on the king-sized bed and carefully covered Oswald’s body with a blanket. After a bit of hesitation, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Oswald opened his eyes slightly as he felt something touch his back. He was momentarily confused of his whereabouts until he saw Ed’s face. It immediately relaxed him. He had no words to describe the feeling he had. Was he happy? Absolutely. Pleasured? Definitely. Tired as hell? Most exponentially.

“Thank you”, he got out with a weak voice. He was sure it would be hell on Earth to talk tomorrow, with his voice completely gone.

“Likewise”, Ed smiled sheepishly; it seemed like all the boldness and teasing had worn off. Now it was just Ed Nygma, the slightly awkward and adorable forensic scientist Oswald had met at the GCPD all those years ago. Well, maybe the Ed Nygma that had nursed him back to health and sang him to sleep every night with the tune of the piano.

“I’m sorry about your throat”, Ed continued and grazed a finger over Oswald’s warm skin. There was already a huge bruise forming on the area of which he had gripped in the heat of the moment.

“Don’t worry about it”, Oswald coughed slightly, trying and failing to get rid of the raspiness in his voice. “Just... stay here, will you?”

“I’m not going anywhere”, Edward assured and gave Oswald a warm smile. This reminded Oswald of a very important day. The day he realized he had fallen in love with Edward; how Ed had been sitting on the sofa in Oswald’s robes, sipping on a cup of honey tea after Butch had nearly choked him to death. How Ed had said he would do anything for Oswald. How they had hugged. Oswald hadn’t even realized he had started to tear up again until Ed pointed it out.

“Are you alright?” the brunette asked and touched Oswald’s hot cheek tenderly. Oswald flinched a bit out of surprise and quickly swiped off the tears.

“Splendid”, he assured and smiled weakly. “Just... a memory. Of you.”

“I hope it was a good one”, Ed said.

“Trust me”, Oswald sat up with a momentarily painful expression. He reached forward and pressed a soft kiss on Edward’s lips. “It was my favourite memory in the world.”


	12. just to be near you, baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE PASSED 1000 HITS! thank you so much for your continuous support on the fic, it means so much to me to hear your feedback and see the kudos <3 keep em coming~

It turned out Edward’s promise of “not going anywhere” hadn’t lasted for long, because Oswald woke up alone in his bed. He looked around to confirm the assumption while rubbing his tired eyes. He glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand; nearing eight in the morning. If he didn’t have any errands to run, he usually liked to sleep in, but something inside him told him it would be a good idea to go check on Ed. He sat up and immediately winced in pain emitting from his lower back. The memories from last night flooded in his mind as he cursed silently. It truly did feel like he had gotten his brains fucked out of him a mere twelve hours prior.

With great struggle he managed to sit up straight and drag his ass over to the dresser to grab a pair of underwear from one of the drawers. He was only wearing his partly broken shirt, and he assumed the rest of his attire was still laying on the lounge room floor – probably soaked in the booze that had spilled all over the place in the heat of the moment. He couldn’t be bothered to find any trousers and instead limped his way out of the door and into the hallway. There were two doors not counting the one to his own bedroom, and Edward’s room was located right on the opposite side of the hallway to his. He gave the door an experimental knock. No answer.

“Ed?” he called and immediately coughed. His throat felt like he had eaten sand paper. He figured that’s what nearly choking to the brink of passing out did to you and decided to just fling the unlocked door open. To his surprise, he found the room empty. Like, empty in multiple ways; not only was Edward nowhere to be seen, the room looked pretty much untouched. All the newspapers and notes had been cleared off and it looked like Ed had never even been there. Oswald scratched his head in confusion. Maybe Ed had just gotten a sudden spark of inspiration to clean the room while drunk, he guessed and started making his way downstairs. The combination of his injured leg and the stinging pain in his backbone caused the trip down the stairs to take about twice as long as it should have, but he arrived in the hallway in the end.

Oswald very quickly realized something was wrong when he made his way into the lounge area. He had been right in the regard of his clothes, but he had not expected to find the room empty. He glanced at the bar kitchen, also deserted. His small office and the bathroom gave him similar results. He was alone. His pulse was starting to raise an unhealthy amount.

“Ed? Edward?!” he tried to shout with a raspy voice. No response.

Oswald looked around frantically for his phone which he ended up finding in the puddle of booze, sticking slightly out of the pocket of his soaked pants. He sat on the edge of the couch, ignoring the gross white stains of dried up cum right next to him, and was delighted to find out the phone was in a working condition. He rushed to get his address book open and scrolled the list until he found a contact titled **_EDDIE_**. He pressed the green button and brought the flip phone up to his ear. He was startled by the sound of a ringtone coming from the kitchen.

He rushed – if the pathetic walk-of-shame-limping could be considered rushing – into the kitchen and found Edward’s cell phone vibrating on the counter to the tune of the man’s ringtone. The panic was starting to take over him now. Ed was nowhere to be found, had cleared his office _and_ had left his cell phone unguarded. That sounded like a recipe for a disaster in Oswald’s ears.

He was slightly trembling as he made his way back to the lounge and peered out of the window in hopes to see Ed on the yard. Instead, it was empty. Empty of everything including the car they had arrived in. Oswald let out an incoherent screech and threw Edward’s phone on the floor. The bastard had stolen his car! Now he was basically trapped in this “safehouse” of his, alone, in pain, and terrified for Ed.

He sat back on the couch and buried his face in his hands. His heart felt like it wanted to rip out of his chest and run out the door. He didn’t have the slightest clue of where Edward could have gone. It didn’t make any sense. Had he just been drunk and done a stupid decision? Maybe so, but that didn’t make Oswald feel any better. He needed to get out of here. He _needed_ to find Ed.

He resulted in the only option that came to his mind, no matter how pathetic or stupid it was. Gritting his teeth, he flipped his phone open again and browsed through his contacts until he found what he was looking for: **_JIM_**. The phone alerted for a good while before he finally picked up.

“Well this is a first”, came Jim’s rough morning voice. Oswald guessed he had woken him up.

“Jim, you have to help me”, Oswald hated how pitiful his voice sounded, so weak and raspy. Panicking.

“Huh?”

“You have to help me, Jim! I’m stuck and I need someone to pick me up right _now_!” his patience was already wearing thin.

“Get a taxi”, Jim groaned, and Oswald heard shuffling, creaking of a bed.

“You don’t unders-“

“Well help me understand, then, Penguin. Go ahead”, Jim interrupted.

“Ed is missing”, Oswald whined, nervously twirling a finger around his messy hair.

“He’s what?” Jim’s voice suddenly changed from utterly bored to incredibly interested.

“MISSING, JIM! I woke up and he’s gone and so is my car and he doesn’t have his phone on him and- and I need _help, please_!”

“Slow down”, Jim ordered. “Where the hell are you anyway?”

“In one of my safehouses at the edge of Gotham. You have to help me, Jim”, Oswald pleaded. His voice cracked on the ‘help’.

“You do know there is a warrant out for both of you, right?” Jim asked with a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Does it seem like I care?! HELP me find EDWARD!” Oswald screamed and gripped the phone with both hands, fighting the urge to bust it through a wall. He heard a dramatic sigh before Jim answered to his demands.

“Send me the address.”

It took Jim roughly thirty minutes to arrive at the house, and during that time Oswald hadn’t managed to do anything besides sulk on the sofa, very nearly bursting into tears every few minutes. He couldn’t understand why Edward would simply just leave. What had caused it? Was everything that happened last night inconsequential to Nygma? Had he been kidnapped or something? The wildest of scenarios kept running through his head. They were interrupted by the knocking on the door. Oswald shot up from the couch, face twisting into an expression of pure agony as he limped up to the door, rubbing his back.

“Finally”, he said the moment he swung the door open. Jim had arrived alone, which Oswald was thankful for. The blonde man looked slightly messier than usual, hair not done and a tie missing, but he was in pristine condition compared to Oswald.

“Have you been in a fight?” Jim asked as soon as he saw the shorter man. Oswald furrowed his brows in confusion but realized fast that he truly looked like a hobo; broken down shirt, no trousers, huge bruises around his thighs and neck, hair shooting up in every direction.

“No”, he muttered and moved swiftly aside to let Jim inside the house. The man looked around the hallway before making his way to the lounge, Oswald in tow. “Sorry, but I didn’t invite you here to a morning tea”, he said when Jim leaned against the backrest of the couch. Jim gave him a look before examining his surroundings. His eyes lingered on the cum-stained sofa and the pile of clothes – both Oswald’s and Edward’s – on the floor before he turned back to Oswald who had inquired a bottle of wine and was pouring himself a glass in front of the dinner table.

“Seems like you had a fun night, Oswald”, the man said and couldn’t hold back a small, smug smile. Oswald took a sip out of his glass and spun around on his good leg, a slight blush on his face.

“Oh shut it”, he murmured and instinctively brought a hand up to his sore neck.

“I don’t judge”, Jim stated, eyes darting slightly over to Oswald’s bruised thighs before shooting back up. “So, are you planning on getting dressed or shall we find Nygma like that?”

“Grab a pair of pants, socks and shoes from my bedroom”, Oswald instructed and leaned against the dinner table with his butt. Jim looked at him with a bemused expression.

“I’m not your errand boy.”

“Well, my _ass_ was _blasted_ yesterday, so the trip would take me like an hour!” Oswald snapped, cheeks flushing crimson. Jim stifled a laugh before obeying and disappearing into the hallway. “The first door on the left”, Oswald muttered after him and raised a hand to massage the bridge of his nose.

Alongside the requested items, Jim had also grabbed a clean, and more importantly not broken, dress shirt and even his walking stick. Oswald got dressed while Jim questioned him about last night’s events. Oswald swiftly failed to mention anything about their bedtime activities while busying himself with the buttons of the black collared shirt.

“So Nygma was just gone when you woke up? Not a word? Maybe a note left behind?” Jim asked with an exasperated sigh.

“I wouldn’t have called you if that was the case”, Oswald said and tucked the shirt in his pants. Jim had somehow managed to choose his favourite pair. “I have no earthly idea what Ed was thinking – not that I ever do – and now I’m afraid he’s going to get himself killed.” He grabbed his cane and they began making their way out of the building. Jim waltzed down the terrace stairs and unlocked his car in the process.

“You really have no clue what his plan is? Did he say anything yesterday? Does he remember more stuff?” he asked, slowing down so Oswald could catch up with him.

“He said the file we stole was a dead-end. Most of his crimes were missing”, Oswald circled around the car and sat down on the passenger’s seat.

“Yeah. He had taken most of it out when he put him in custody. It was on my table”, Jim said, plopping down next to Oswald. He started the engine and slammed the door shut.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know about the smoke grenade”, Oswald admitted as they made their way out to the road. Jim chuckled dryly.

“I figured”, he said. “Doesn’t seem like anyone’s on the same wavelength with Edward Nygma. Not even himself, sometimes.”

“The plan was idiotic!” Oswald said and slammed his head against the headrest. “I could have easily gotten the file for him, but noooooo. Mr. Flare-For-The-Dramatic just _had_ to get apprehended and break out of jail before even getting out of custody!”

“You said most of the crimes were missing. Which ones weren’t?” Jim backtracked the conversation, knowing that if he didn’t, Oswald would just go on a tantrum about Nygma’s notions.

“He said something about a museum heist?” Oswald rubbed his tired eyes. “He had no clue why he had stolen a painting, though, so he isn’t really in the state of mind he was when he committed the heist.”

“That was when I begun investigating the disappearance of Kristen Kringle”, Jim recalled, glancing at Oswald who was staring at the ceiling. “He tried to get me side-tracked. He did a series of crimes; first the museum, then at... the railway station.” The realization seemed to hit both of the men at the same time.

“You don’t think he had remembered, do you?” Oswald asked, breathing heavy. Jim opened his mouth to respond, but a ringtone interrupted their conversation. Jim pulled his phone out of his jacket.

“Harvey”, he said in a questioning tone. A lot of people sure were trying to get his attention before nine in the morning. He clicked the phone in loudspeaker mode so Oswald could hear the conversation, too.

“Jim, where the hell are you? Oh God, we need you _right now_!” Bullock’s voice sounded slightly panicked, but even more-so pissed off.

“What’s happening?” Jim asked and looked at Oswald who was eagerly leaning towards the phone to hear better.

“The station, Jim! It- it fucking went boom right here and now!” Jim almost drove off the road upon hearing the news. Oswald couldn’t contain himself anymore and snatched the phone from Jim’s grip.

“It had to be Ed! Did you see him? Did you see Edward?!” he demanded, emitting a loud huff from the speaker.

“What the h- Penguin? Jim, what are you doin’?”

“Nygma is missing. I’m coming with Oswald”, Jim called out to the phone and made a sharp turn on the gravel road. The screeching of the tires hid the silent “god fucking damn it” from the other end of the line. “Secure the building”, Jim ordered.

“Well, uh, that’s a bit of an issue considering the building is already up in flames, pal”, Bullock answered.

“Wait, are people injured?” Oswald interrupted and clutched the phone like his life depended on it. Edward Nygma might have been criminally insane, but he never killed innocent bystanders with his antics.

“It was a pretty small bomb, but the fire is spreading fast. The firefighters are tryna get it all figured out. No deaths as far as we know right now, but a bunch of small injuries.”

“Oh my god...”, Oswald muttered, and in this moment of weakness Jim managed to steal the phone back.

“Hang on tight, we’ll be there in fifteen minutes”, he said and snapped the phone shut before even giving Harvey a chance to respond. Jim sped up even more than he had previously, and Oswald could do nothing expect stare at the road before him, listening to his heartbeat. He hadn’t been quite this terrified in weeks. What the _hell_ was Edward doing?

Instead of fifteen minutes, Jim wheeled to a stop in front of the railway station in barely ten minutes. Harvey was already hopping around the front of the building waiting for them and immediately ran over as soon as he saw Jim’s head appearing in the crowd. Oswald followed him as fast as he could despite the pain.

“No sign of Nygma”, Bullock said before Oswald could even ask. “The fire is mostly in check, and no one is dead, but there’s a lot of shock and panic and fear, Jim.”

“I can tell”, Jim nodded while looking around the area. There were at least a dozen ambulances parked around the building, accompanied with half as many fire trucks. He also took notice of a few journalists creeping around the area. Of course the press was all over the place as soon as anything went down. Oswald stared at the shattered glass doors of the railway station. Jim and Harvey’s talking blurred in with the rest of background noises and before he could even notice, he was already making his way towards the doors. Of course, he was blocked by a pair of police officers before getting anywhere near the entrance.

“Hey, don’t run off like that”, he heard Jim’s voice from behind and twirled around to meet the man’s eyes. “I know you’re worried about Nygma. But there is no way he’d be dumb enough to stay near the area after pulling this off.” Oswald stared at him for a moment before lowering his gaze with a sigh. His bottom lip quivered a bit.

“I know, Jim”, he muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to cry, scream. Scream for Ed’s name, beg for him to reveal himself. But he did none of it.

“Take the car, go to the station. I’ll meet you there”, Jim’s voice sounded like he was genuinely trying to comfort the smaller man.

“What? Just give myself in to the GCPD? Nice one”, Oswald scoffed and swallowed his tears.

“No”, Jim sighed and placed a reassuring hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll get the warrant charges dropped. We both want to find Ed, trust me. Just sit in my office until I get there. Get a cup of tea or something.”

Oswald truly wanted to fight back, but simply didn’t find it in himself to do so. He slumped his shoulders and nodded with a huff. “Fine”, he muttered, and Jim gave him the keys to his car. “Be fast”, he told Jim before disappearing into the crowd of disoriented Gothamites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> focused more on that good old gobblepot friendship :') i love their relationship so much


End file.
